Kindred of Columbia
by Kingofthings7929
Summary: When the rest of the candidates to free Elizabeth fall through, the Luteces, along with a certain Cabbie, turn to the most famous Fledgling in LA, Dustin Hastings of Clan Ventrue, to do the job. How will a Kindred of the Modern Nights handle the backwards nature of the "More Perfect Union?" Rating for blood, killing and other vampire stuff one expects from the World of Darkness.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1:**

I hate rising each night.

People who use the phrase, "sleep like the dead" have no idea what it's actually like. You wake up stiff and creaky only for mobility to slowly be restored as the blood reanimates you, bit by bit. The whole process maybe lasts a couple minutes at the most but it's still a chore.

So, with said stiffness worked out of me by the blood, I rose from my bed and began my day. If not for the time it took place and for what I was putting on, it'd look like any other day. I walked into my bathroom, brushed my teeth, did my hair then got dressed. White dress shirt, pressed of course, red vest and tie with black slacks. All normal, very human. What wasn't was that my red vest was Kevlar lined, as are my pants. My leather trench coat is not only similarly lined but hides the required harnesses and pockets to not only conceal a handgun, but also a submachine gun and even a katana, yes I carry a sword around. Why do I carry all of this? Well, that answer is simple.

My name is Dustin Hastings and I'm the Sheriff of Los Angeles. Which sounds preposterous, LA has a police force, not a sheriff and deputies. But, I'm not Sheriff of the people of LA, I'm the Sheriff of its vampires, it's Kindred as we call ourselves. Yes, vampires exist, as do a bunch of other supernatural entities out there, such as werewolves and spirits. Hell, I even hear rumors of mages now and again, which aren't hard to believe, given that we Kindred have a whole clan of blood mages, known as the Tremere. I myself am of Clan Ventrue, the Clan that more often than not rules Kindred society. At least, we rule the civilized parts, we have no desire to rule the rest nor do the rest want us to rule them. It's a mutual exchange, at least as much as such things can be among Kindred.

As Sheriff, I keep the peace, prevent vampires from running amuck killing each other, and keep mortals from finding out it all, that sort of thing. I'm more or less the janitor for around 100 or so blood sucking monsters, most of whom care little for humanity. While the job sounds taxing, and it is, I LOVE it. The challenges keep me busy from what would otherwise be a very boring eternity and I wield quite a bit of informal power, as the Prince I serve generally has a hands off ruling policy. Such is the Tremere, I suppose. Always studying their magicks. Been this ways since 2004, nearly 12 years now and I wouldn't have it any other way. Well, perhaps except me as Prince but that's an old internal debate with me, not work going over

After finishing the final steps of my morning ritual, which usually involve a brief viewing of the news cycle as I checked my email, I went to leave the house to being the night's work only to discover that my keys had vanished. Now, I have few material possessions that I actually love, but my car is one of them, a holdover from my days as a Kine, I guess. It was an Aston Martin DB9, classy, luxurious and faster than almost anything on the road. So naturally, the missing keys was a pain. Sadly, there was work to be done so I added searching my apartment to my mental to do list, I left the building and got a cab, my usual back up for when my car isn't an option. It was then that I realized that my day would be ANYTHING but normal for my car wasn't driven by a cabbie but The Cabbie.

Some background is needed here. See back in 2004, during the frantic month with ended with Strauss as Prince and me as Sheriff, a Blood Hunt was called on me but Strauss's predecessor, Prince Lacroix. A Blood Hunt is when every Kindred in a city is given carte blanche to bring someone the Final Death. So after fighting through Santa Monica, killing at least 10 Kindred, I ended up in a cab, trying to decide my destiny. That cab was driven by a mysterious Kindred, the same Kindred now in the front seat of the cab I sat inside.

The cab was already in motion when I realized who he is. He looked back at me through his sunglasses and spoke. "Good Evening, young Vampire."

Naturally, I was confused at this Kindred's presence and my usual tact failed me as I asked him, "What are you doing here?"

He simply stared back through those sunglasses, "I am calling on an old debt."

"What old debt? What do I owe you?" Kindred politics is built on favors, a system known as prestation, and I kept track of what was owed to me and what I owed to others. But I had no recollection of owing the Cabbie.

"Much, young one. Much indeed. Tell me, do you know how old the Tzimisce you killed 12 years ago was?"

"No idea. Never got to ask."

"He was 476 years old when you slew him. An Elder, by both Camarilla and Sabbat standards. Do you know how old your predecessor was?"

On this, I could only guess. I knew even less about Lacroix's sheriff than I did about the Tzimisce I'd killed years ago. "Couple hundred?"

"A close guess, 183 years old when you killed him. I seem to recall you not struggling with that battle, yes?"

"Why are you asking me all of this? What's going on?"

The Cabbie looked into the review mirror, fixing me with eyes that I swear were glowing, even though his sunglasses. "You were less than a month old, a Fledgling by any standard. Your generation was not high enough to compensate for that shortcoming yet here you are, successful slayer of elders from many clans. One of two Kindred in this city to kill a werewolf in combat and a being still feared by the Kuei-jin to this very night after killing their local elder. Yet never once you considered how this was? How such a young vampire adjusted to his powers so fast?"

I felt this sense of dread come over me, the cab slowly growing darker and more compact. "What are you saying?"

"Your skills were born of your experiences but you learned them quickly, faster than any Kindred or Kine could. When your unlife began, you had no clue how to use a blade. Not a month later, you were a master. Your mind is clever, but your power was not all yours. I stepped in."

"What did you do to me?"

"I accelerated your growth rate, a simple trick really. Any high level Tremere could so a similar ability for a short time."

I shifted, wanting to so badly reach for my weapons, "Yet by saying that, you make it clear you aren't that."

"Yes, that much is true. I am not Tremere, nor am I of any modern clan." He returned his gaze to the ever darkening road, not helping my growing fear in the slightest.

"Are you Caitiff then? Clanless?"

"Nothing so basic. I am… the progenitor. The First."

If I still could pale, I would've. If he was correct… "You're Caine. The First Vampire."

He smiled a hollow smile and nodded, "Yes, I was the first of us. A foolish man who must now pay for his mistakes for the rest of time. But, that is neither here nor there. I am not the subject of this discussion. Once again, you are. I accelerated your growth to make you capable to facing the challenges posed to you. To face the machinations of Kindred and Kine alike."

"Why? Why me?"

At this, Caine paused, pondering an answer. He was quiet for some time before replying. "I wished to see if there was still hope for the Kindred. You proved to me there was. It is why I ended Gehenna before it began."

"You what? Gehenna is a myth."

"Correct, it is now a myth. But in the days of your embrace, it was fast approaching. After seeing the events in your home, I choose to prevent it. A simple task, to force my grand-childer back into Torpor."

I leaned back, still in shock at what I was hear. The cab again fell into silence before I broke it, "Why tell me this now? What's happened?"

"There is a task I need performed and you are my chosen agent. When we stop, there will be a boat and a pair of Kine. They do not know the truth of us but they will have a task for you. Bring them the girl and wipe away the debt."

"My debt? And who's the girl? What are you-"

He held up a hand, silencing me, "All will become clear in time. What is not important is where the girl is taken, but that she leaves regardless. The Kine I spoke of my have plans but you work for me. Get the girl out of harm's way. All else will become clear in time."

"Who are these mortals you're trying to subvert?"

"Kine with power that no human should have. It is too late to reseal Pandora's Box. But with luck, we may prevent its full opening."

I sighed and leaned back. "So, get the girl and keep her safe without telling these humans the plan. That about right?"

Caine nodded as the car came to a stop. "We are here." The outside had brightened, but not by much, revealing a stormy sea and a dock. At the end of the dock, tied to one of its supports sat a small rowboat. Near the rowboat were two humans, both garbed in rain coats and hats. "I take it those are the humans you spoke of?"

"Yes, they are. Play along until the time is right." The car door swung open and I moved to leave, only to be caught on the arm by Caine. "Remember, it is the blood of Caine that makes our fate, farewell Vampire." With my arm oddly tingling, I stepped out of the car. The rain was coming down in sheets and the only thing protecting my clothes was my, thankfully, water proof trench coat. I walked down the pier, pulling the coat closer around me to mimic a soaking wet, cold mortal. As I walked down the dock, the two at the end of it simply stared at me, only speaking up when I got closer to them, as if they were waiting for me.

"Hm, doesn't seem like much." Commented the woman.

"Looks can be deceiving, sister." Replied the man, picking up an old briefcase.

"Perhaps. The other choices looked more up to the job."

"We picked him for a reason."

"He was on the list, Brother. We didn't pick him."

At this, I cleared my throat. "Excuse me, are you two the one with the job for me?"

The man merely nodded at me then began to climb into the boat, still bickering with his sister. "At least he's polite."

"Politeness isn't a useful combat trait."

"He has other skills."

The woman shrugged as we all settled onto the rowboat. The man started rowing as the woman passed me the briefcase. Inside it were two sheets of paper, one with a picture of a key, a scroll and a sword on it. The scroll was labeled "x1" while the key and sword were labeled "x2". The other was a note, simply saying, "Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt." A phrase that eerily mirrored one spoke by the Cab-Caine earlier. Next to the papers was a picture labeled Elizabeth, presumably the girl I needed to find. And next to that was an ornate key, which I quickly pocketed, and one of the oddest things in the briefcase, a Mauser C96 pistol, complete with a couple stripper clips. I slid the pistol into a coat pocket with the clips and looked up at the two kine. "I take it I'm looking for the girl in the picture?"

They ignored me however as they resumed their bickering. "Are you going to just sit there?" the man asked.

"As compared to what? Standing?" She replied.

"Not standing, rowing." Over the top of the two siblings, I could see the light of a lighthouse rotating. I figured it was our destination, though why I'm going to a lighthouse in the middle of a storm is beyond me.

"Rowing? I hadn't planned on it."

"So you expect me to shoulder the burden?" The man asked as I handed the woman back the briefcase.

"No, but I do expect you to do all the rowing."

"And why is that?"

"Coming here was your idea."

"My idea?"

"I've made it very clear that I don't believe in the exercise."

"The rowing?"

"No. I imagine that's wonderful exercise." The woman replied. I suspected that she had actually been referring to having me do this job. After all, I wasn't at the top of the list. Probably wanted to scrap the whole thing and have someone else do the job. Hell, they may be choosing me due to Caine's influence. If he can keep Antediluvians in torpor, making a couple kine choose differently would be easy. Hell, I could do that if I needed to! Caine could do it from across the globe more than likely.

"Then what?" The man replied.

"The entire thought experiment." And confirmed. Maybe, not sure yet.

Regardless, I decided to speak up. "Excuse me, how much longer will we be out in this weather?"

Again ignoring me, the man replied to his sister. "One goes into an experiment knowing one could fail."

"But one does not undertake an experiment knowing one has failed." The woman replied.

"Can we get back to the rowing?"

"I suggest you do or we're never going to get there."

"No, I mean I'd greatly appreciate it if you would assist."

"Perhaps you should ask him." The woman said, perhaps acknowledging my existence for the first time this whole ride, going on to say, "I imagine he has a greater interest in getting there than I do."

"I suppose he does. But there's no point in asking." The man conceded.

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't row."

"He doesn't _row_?"

"No, he _doesn't_ row."

"Ah. I see what you mean."

And with that confusing ending, the banter again ceased. By now we were just coming up the island, a rock jutting out of the sea with a lighthouse perched atop it. Buy light house standards it was short, wider than most you see in pictures. Probably meant to take the ocean waves better or something. We came up along a dock coming off the rock, with the woman marking our arrival with a brief, "We've arrived." And for once, no response was forth coming.

We came to a stop and I climbed up the conveniently placed ladder onto the dock. As I left the rowboat, the two began to head off, discussing whether or not they should tell me when they'd be returning. I ignored the banter and yelled out to them. "Will the keeper be meeting me here then?"

"I'd certainly hope so." The man replied, speaking to me directly for the first time.

"It does seem like a dreadful place to be stranded." The woman commented as the rowboat headed off. Deciding that the Kine weren't worth the effort anymore. I started up towards the lighthouse. The way up to the front door was well maintained, indicating that the keeper came here regularly. IF I was just left out here to die, I could just sink into Torpor until the keeper showed up. Simple. On the door there was a note reading, "Hastings- Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt. This is your last chance!" Yet another repetition of that phrase. Something is up and I don't like it. Not one bit.

After knocking on the door and announcing myself, I stepped inside the lighthouse and out of the rain, which was beginning to annoy me. The first thing I saw was a large poster with the words "Of thy sins, Shall I wash thee" emblazoned boldly in the font I've only seen in knitting patterns or images meant to look like knitting patterns. The poster hung above and old school wash basin. But what struck me first was the smell. I smelled blood. Split blood, old and dried up. Kindred have better senses than humans and blood is usually our priority. I'd know the smell anywhere. Above me, I heard a radio blaring a song about "Old Time Religion" or something. Fitting, given the poster. Next to the steps leading to the next level was another poster with the same font, which read; "From Sodom, Shall I lead thee". I'm starting to think that these posters are part of a larger bit of poetry, probably something scriptural, like a lesser writers attempt at the Divine Comedy.

Upstairs was, I assume, the living quarters of the keeper. Given the fact that I had yet to hear or see him, chances are the blood I smelled was in fact his. The odd piece though was a map on the wall, with a pattern spelled out with pins and yarn, like those conspiracy boards you see in movies. Next to it was a roster or schedule, didn't get a good look really, labeled Colombia. No idea what it meant but one thing was jumping out at me. Everything here was old. All the furniture here was old fashioned. It looked new, but all of it was in designs from the early 20th century, the sort of things you see in antique stores. Including, beneath the map, an old telephone. I picked it up, half joking really, only to hear a faint buzzing from the speaker. Not a dial tone, like a modern phone, but just a buzz you get from older sound systems. That was even weirder. This whole thing was starting to remind me of the Ocean House. Not a good thing, being reminded of a haunted hotel.

At the foot of the next staircase was yet more evidence of a dead keeper, spilled food. Fruits mostly, looking to have been knocked over during a fight. And, again, next to the stairs was another poster showing the next line of the poem, "To thine own land, Shall I take thee". More weirdness. As I walked up the steps, I began to see blood spatters and, sure enough, on the next floor I saw more signs of fighting and a corpse tied to a chair. There were knives around it on various tables and the man had a bag over his head, with a hole in the front from where he was presumably shot. On his lap, leaning against his body was a sign saying "Don't disappoint us." I still heard nothing else and, confident in my Fortitude to help survive an ambush, I walked to the next stairway. There again, another poster. This one reading; "In new Eden Soil, Shall I plant thee?" I took the steps up, eventually being deposited up on the roof in the rain. Yet, the light was off and no one was here waiting to kill me. Yet more mysteries.

A door lead into the light room. On it were 3 bells, one labeled with an image of a key, one label with an image of a scroll and one labeled with an image of a sword. Two and two makes for, so I pulled out that piece of paper with the same images and followed the instructions, ringing the key bell once, then the scroll bell twice followed by ringing the sword bell twice.

Then, a rumble, like a steam horn from a ship larger than any other came from the sky, accompanied by a red light through the cloud cover. Something was up there. The sky horn kept blew four more times, each time accompanied by another red light. The lighthouse light sort of beeped five times, a deep low sound also followed by a dark red light. Then the sky horn responded once as normal, then twice more with the same light but a deeper pitch. It was a communications method. Perhaps Morse Code? The sky horn/light blew twice more before the bells began to ring as they slid down the door, opening as the light turned then slip up into the lighthouse. The floor below the light turned revealing a plush red chair. After noting the metal restraints, which I could probably snap if need be thanks to my superior strength, I sat down in the chair. I may not have Potence like the Brujah, but I wasn't a physical slouch like most Ventrue. Sure enough, the bindings went on. What was more surprising was the panels which started to slide up from below me along with a voice, probably from a speaker system.

"Make yourself ready, pilgrim. The bindings are there as a safeguard." So either this was going to end with me alive, or I was a pilgrim on my way to Heaven. I hoped for the former and, failing that, that the execution method wouldn't kill me. The pod sealed closed with a pressurized hiss and the chair moved, pointing me down towards the rest of the lighthouse. I saw gears turning me only to be shocked as below me, what were unmistakable rocket engines flared to life. I was in a rocket, shit. The voice spoke again as my seat rotated back to a normal position while I braced for lift off. "Ascension. Ascension in the count of Five. Count of Four. Three. Two. One." And as the voice against said "Ascension." We lifted off, moving fast. Far faster than any NASA launched I'd seen. The damn voice said ascension once more before it listed off the altitude, starting with 5000 feet, then in less than a second 10000 feet and lastly 15000 feet.

Then the clouds parted with a bright flash of light, revealing a city in the clouds illuminated by sunlight. Wait, sunlight?! I threw up my hands instinctively, hoping to be spared. But I felt nothing, no pain, no burning. Just the warm of a star I had no felt in over a decade. I lowered my arms and took in the view. The voice had said something but I'd not been paying attention. I soaked it all in, the view of the city before me. The view was dominated by a massive angel statue looming over the city. But what struck me above all else was the warmth. There really was nothing quite like sunlight. Kine take it for granted. And somehow I was, wait… that tingling when Caine grabbed me… did he…I sighed and tabled those thoughts. I could ask him when this was all done. What mattered was that, somehow, this part of the curse was lifted. I could walk in the sunlight again. Music came on over the speaker, old time piano music, as the rocket reached the top of its trajectory. Just as we began to drop again, I heard a noise like cloth billowing in the wind and felt the catch of the parachute stopping the freefall before it began. The pod creaked and swayed as I stared out at that statue and the sun above it. It was one of the most beautiful things I'd ever seen in my entire life, more beautiful than any sunrise or sunset I'd seen as a Kine. It was... glorious… If I could, I think I would've cried looking up at that view through the porthole.

Then, we landed on with a loud crash. The pod then began to descend into a building. It went dark as the sunlight vanished, leaving the pod lightless. Even my superior vampiric senses couldn't see through it, not that my senses were anything compared to any Kindred with Auspex of course. The next light I saw was sunlight coming through a window, illumination a stenciled out pair of lines, placed no doubt for newcomers to read. "Why would he send his savior unto us." As the pod continued its descent, I started to hear singing, most likely a hymn I think. It had the right tone, reminiscent of Amazing Grace in the general feel of the song. Another line came passing by; "If we will not lift a finger for our own salvation." Then came another line; "And though we deserve not his mercy." And another, one right after another. "He has lead us to this new Eden." That didn't bode well. When that sort of talk is being thrown around, typically one is dealing with a cult of some form. There have been a few cases of cults believing their leader was either God or Christ reborn, Heaven's Gate for example. Not the best sign for what I was going into. The next line didn't help with that; "A Last Chance for Redemption."

The stenciled in lines stopped after that and the pod was plunged back into darkness only for that darkness to be again pierced, this time by an immense stained glass window. The pattern showed a figure, this cult's leader if I had to guess, pointing towards a city in the sky with others watching him. Carved above him were the lines; "And the prophet shall lead the people to the New Eden." Shit, I was right. This place is a cult enclave. In the sky, somehow. Beneath the window, I saw the floor of the building at long last. And sure enough, the pod finally came to a complete stop, the panel in front of me retracting as the bindings came off. I stepped out of the pod, stepping into the water than covered the floor of this place. Thank god my shoes were waterproof. I looked up at the window. The prophet, I assume, was an older man with a long white beard, posed in a typical religious figure pose, one hand pointed towards the goal and the other outstretched as if to say, "Come with me, I will show you the way." Yeah, the way to abuse and/or suicide, depending on who this nutjob wanted to emulate.

I turned to my right to move on, only to see another carving, this one saying that "The seed of the Prophet shall sit the throne and drown in flame the mountains of man." For all their flaws, these cultists are ever so helpful at determining the end goals of their little group. These lunatics wanted to destroy the world, figures. I'd seen this before among humans, in the form of Aum Shinrikyo, and among Kindred, in the form of a Gehenna cult I… broke up let's say, back in 2004. Anyway, in the next room was a large statue of the same figure from the window, this mysterious prophet. In this one, his long white beard was carved to look like it was blowing in the wind and that it was a beard of fire. Probably meant to show the Holy Spirit flowing from him. Not a bad motif for a cult leader. There were candles everywhere, also probably meant to evoke the same ideas. Not bad at all, really, very clever. And judging by the water on the floor… this was a baptismal place. Where newcomers are inducted into the faith before becoming part of city life. Perfect, I can make an identity as I go and work my way towards the girl, where ever she is. After all, I can pose as human in LA, fooling these morons should be a breeze.

The statue room had two side rooms, one had a trail of rose petals floating in the water but I choose to examine the other room first. If the cult was going to tell everyone its ideas, I was going to listen. No reason not to. Another stained glass window shed light into the room, with the same prophet holding an infant with a woman behind him, both looking down at the baby. Probably their child. The line beneath it confirmed it; "The Lamb, the Future of our city." I turned and left the room, heading towards the room with the rose petals floating in it, only to be caught off guard at a white robed figure standing next to the doorway leading further inside. I stepped up to the man, "Excuse me, what is this place?"

The man, perhaps an acolyte or something, replied, "Heaven, friend. Or as close as we'll see until Judgement Day." He didn't seem too shocked at the question, guess he was used to such queries. Behind the man was a long stairway, with water streaming down it in countless little waterfalls. It was a lawsuit waiting to happen but I went down the steps anyway. More stained glass illuminated the stair way, smaller windows this time. The first window had a sword, the second a key, and the third a scroll. Then, I saw what I think is the main chamber. It was use, easily the size of any cathedral I've seen. Water again covered the floor, this time up to my knees. A preacher was preaching down near the other end of the room but his voice carried, saying "And every year on this day of days, we recommit ourselves to our city, and to our prophet, Father Comstock. We recommit through sacrifice, and the giving of thanks, and by submerging ourselves in the sweet waters of baptism." The room was laid out in multiple lanes, each filled with water and separated by smaller lanes filled with floating candles. The preacher kept going, "And lo, if the prophet had struck down our enemies at Wounded Knee, and not railed against the Sodom beneath us, it would have been enough." Wait, Wounded Knee? That was in the 1890's what the hell does it have to do with today? Did this nutjob claim to be immortal too? Hm… he might even be Kindred, maybe a methuselah or, God help me, an awakened Antediluvian.

"If the Prophet had just railed against the Sodom beneath us, but not accepted the golden gifts of the Founders, it would have been enough." The preacher went on. A circle or listens gather around the recess where the preacher spoke. Unlike everyone else, the preacher was dressed in a black robe. Typical uniforms of a church, acolytes in white, preachers in black. I sighed, it was time to step forward. I did so and the preacher noticed me instantly, saying, "Is it someone new? Someone from the Sodom below? Newly come to Columbia to be washed clean, before our Prophet, our Founders and our Lord?"

Fucking humans, I swear. My sins won't be washed away with one baptism and neither will the sins of anyone, Kindred or Kine. But I of course didn't voice those thoughts, instead saying, "Yes, I've come to be cleansed, to join the chosen people in this New Eden."

The Preacher smiled wide and beckoned me closer. "Come then Child, come and be reborn in the sweet waters of baptism." I affected a wide, somewhat sappy smile of a man come to his rightful place and took his outstretched hand.

He pulled me close and began to speak, "I baptize you, in the name of our prophet, in the name of our Founders, in the name of our Lord." And down I went as the preacher put his hand on my forehead and shoved me underwater. It took me a moment to remember to struggle. Kindred don't need to breath. The only reason we suck in air was to speak, otherwise some elders don't bother. But, I had a Masquerade to uphold here so I faked a man who needed air. I didn't hear his next words through the water, only hearing him say. "And make him born again, in the bosom of Columbia."

I grinned back, as if I had in fact been wiped clean of my sins. "Thank you Sir, thank you."

The preacher grinned back at me and released me, "Go then, Brother. Go and bask in this new Eden." He outstretched his hand towards the tunnel behind him, through which I could see sunlight and trees. I bowed once then started walking towards the light. As I walked away, I let a predatory smile grace my features while no one could see it.

Fucking humans.

* * *

Stepping out into the sunlight was like nothing I'd felt before. It was so warm, warmth I hadn't felt in over a decade. In front of me were three statues, one of Benjamin Franklin holding a key out towards, well us I suppose is the intent but it was more like towards something beneath him, like a God offering mankind something. In the same pose in front of me was George Washington, offering us a sword handle first. And to the right of me was Thomas Jefferson, offering a scroll in the same pose. All three statues had their subjects garbed in roman togas. Again, clever imagery but not why I'm here. I knew what I needed to know. Lord made the Founders, Founders gave knowledge to Comstock, Comstock makes sky cult. The end. I walked past the worshippers at the base of the Washington statues and left the water, climbing up a stairway to a garden. At the top of the steps was a man who spoke to me, saying, "Our Prophet fills our lungs with water, so they may better love the air." Yes, yes, our Prophet gives us everything, praise be to him for all our gifts.

Fucking humans, I swear.

Anyway, after smiling and nodding at the idiot, I walked into the garden proper. To be honest, I wasn't much paying attention to what was around me. I was too busy admiring the garden in the sunlight and, more important, soaking up the sun's rays. I was channeling my inner Toreador I guess, drinking deep of the art around me. In all honesty, whatever they paid the architect of this place, it wasn't enough. It was dripping in religious symbolism, become baptized in the fire and water of the Holy Spirit then emerge into a beautiful garden? A New Eden indeed, I'm impressed. Not buying it, but impressed.

I strode through the garden, tuning out the prayers of the locals as I made for the exit. I had a job to do after all, enough sightseeing. Above the exit was, again, carved the lines; "The Seed of the Prophet shall sit the Throne and drown in Flame the Mountains of Man." Big on that end of the world stuff, this Columbia. I opened the door to the city beyond. It was like the nineteen teens had made sweet love to the Jetsons and I was walking in their love child. The city was floating, but the architecture was pure turn of the century America. Each building floated on its own little island and it became clear that these buildings moved, interlocking with each other to allow people to pass. This was made clear by another sky island floating up to meet us, leading to yet another statue of Mr. Comstock.

Around me, buildings shifted and moved, interlocking with each other then disconnecting and floating off to parts unknown. Walking down the street past the statue was like being sent to a touristless Main Street USA from Disney World. The people all dress in turn of the century garb. Then, I heard something else from the old days, a newspaper boy, yelling out about a transcript of the newest speech from Comstock to his flock, or something like that. I decided that more information would be useful and approached the paper boy. He looked at me from his box and held out a paper with a smile. "Here, Sir. A free copy of the Columbia Gazette. Free for all Pilgrims."

I gave another false smile and took the paper. "Thank you, my good man." With that, I walked off, looking over the paper. The headline read "Secession Day Celebration. Fink promises special surprise for raffle winner!" But what got my attention was the date. July 6th, 1912. I stopped in my tracks when my eyes went over that line as I kept rereading it again and again. July 6th, 1912. Two possibilities there. One was that this was a massive hoax and the other was that I'd gone back in time over a hundred years. I lowered the paper and looked around, thinking. The architecture and clothing matched, each shop having leapt out of a turn of the century photo. But it was the signs in the window that would show me the way. Many of the shops had the sign "Pilgrims welcome" in their windows. So, I find a pilgrim, get him alone, and use Dominate to get answers. Simple. With this plan in mind, I entered the nearest shop I could find, a butcher shop.

As I opened the door, I heard a bell ring as a large man in an apron stepped up to me. Here again, all like a stereotypical turn of the century butcher shop. The butcher smiled wide and waved me in. "Welcome, welcome! You must be a pilgrim yes? How are you enjoying this fair city?"

I affected my usual false smile and replied. "It's a marvelous place, Mr…"

"Ah, none of that formality stuff in my shop! Call me George!" He was a boisterous man, loud and friendly. Despite my usual paranoia, I had a good first impression so far.

"Of course, George. How long have you been in this fair city?"

"Couple 'a years now. I was a Pilgrim, just like you!"

Jackpot. Just what I needed. Perhaps God hasn't forsaken me yet. "Really? What made you come up here?"

He sighed wistfully. "I'd grown up hearing the stories about the Eden in the sky. After my first shop down in Chicago fell apart, I came up here to start anew. Been here ever since, thank the Prophet!"

I nodded and readied myself. "I see. So…" The blood raced through me as I activated Dominate, looking him straight in the eye. "What is the actual date?"

His eyes glazed over as Dominate took over. "The date is July 6th, 1912."

"And the date on the ground below us?"

"July 6th, 1912."

Shit, so somehow Caine had tossed me back in time. Which was a problem, but not a huge one. Getting back 2016 would be a simple matter of waiting out the time. The benefits of eternal life. I looked back at the man, again using Dominate. "You will forget my questions as to the day and return to normal in 5 seconds." At that, I quickly reassumed the façade of young idealistic idiot, happy smile and all, just in time for his eyes to light up again.

"So, what brought you here, young man?" The butcher asked.

"I've come to seek my fortune with God's people."

He nodded. "Well, Good luck then. Oh! Hold on!" He opened the register and pulled out a small bag of coins. "Here, these are Silver Eagles. Different currency up here. Figured you'd have nothing."

I smiled back, a more genuine smile now. He'd earned that much. "Thank you, kind sir. I shall not forget this. Good day." With that I began to leave.

"Good bye! And Happy Secession Day!" He yelled, waving as I left the shop.

So, recap. I was no in July 1912 in a floating city searching for a girl for a pair of Kine and the Caine of the Old Testament. When the hell did everything get so goddamn weird? I started to walk down the street, hands in my coat pockets as I pondered my new situation. Priority 1: Find Elizabeth. Priority 2: Get her out of Columbia. Priority 3: Wait out the next hundred years of chaos until civilization is restored. Right, simple enough. As I walked, I overheard a couple discussing a 'Vox Populi', with one of the two dismissing Latin as a language. While the scholar in me was horrified at the idea of dismissing Latin, what was more relevant was that phrase, 'Vox Populi'. 'Voice of the people' if my memory served. Most likely some kind of progressive or populist movement. Or perhaps even a communist group. Such things were all the rage in the days before the Great War. Either way, not an issue right now. What did catch and hold my attention was the horse and carriage ahead of me. More accurately, what held my attention was the horse. It was a robot. They had built a robot in the days before the fucking Vacuum Tube. In 2016 the idea of a robot horse was insane but 1912?! Most ships were still steam! The age of radio was still a decade away, what the hell was going on?

I kept walking, trying to process everything. Ahead of me was a sky lane (for lack of a better term). Through it, a parade floated by on what looked like parade floats perched atop blimps floating by, each one showing a part of the origin story of this place, the same story I'd seen hints of in the baptism chamber. The first had Comstock, I assume, being shown a vision of the city by an angel. According to the announcer, he had seen this vision after the 'victory' of Wounded Knee and the angel was called Columbia. First off, Wounded Knee was a massacre and secondly, there was no angel named Columbia last I checked. The next float was more familiar, the image of the Prophet leading his people to the floating city, with the announcer describing Columbia (the city not the angel) as "a more perfect union" and the world beneath as "the Sodom below". Typical cult ideas, isolation and making the cult followers feel superior in their holiness. Then, came the last float, again showing the Prophet and, I assume his wife, holding a child, which the announcer called "the miracle child, the lamb that is the future of our city. For the Prophet has said that she in the tower will lead the Sodom below into righteousness." As a lowered bridge came up to let us pass, I pondered what I'd heard. I'd bet my unlife that the girl in the tower, this lamb, was Elizabeth. I was gonna end up stealing this cult's holy heir. Shit.

Across the bridge, a sign announced the Columbia Raffle and Fair. Most likely the same raffle that the newspaper mentioned. I walked up the steps to the next level and was about to cross the bridge when I noticed a large poster on the side of a building. In it a figure in a black robe held a fainting woman in one arm and in the other was coaxing a lamb along. Even without the poster telling me that "The False Shephard only seeks to lead our Lamb astray." The meaning was obvious. What caught my attention was the woman however. She was the stereotypical woman you'd see in posters of this period, blond and beautiful, but her neck had two red dots in it, right over the jugular. Wounds I was intimately familiar with, as I'd caused them on many a kine. A vampire bite. So, they thought their anti-Christ would suck the blood of the womenfolk. They probably did it to make this figure more monstrous or something. But if this lamb was indeed Elizabeth, then I was the False Shephard and the blood drinking was literal.

Poor fools. They have no idea what has come to town.

* * *

As I walked past the poster, another gondola/blimp thing came up beside me with a barbershop quartet singing on it. Apparently, they were sponsored by an Albert Fin and the song was called "God Only Knows." They were talented, but something about how they sang told me that the song was meant to be performed differently. Oh well, not an issue here so I kept moving. After a brief walk under a couple arches, there it was. The angel statue I'd seen on arrival, apparently the home of Elizabeth, the lamb of Columbia. And my objective. As I stepped forward, I was interrupted by a voice saying "Telegram, Mr. Hastings!"

I stopped in my tracks to look down at a young boy holding up a slip of paper for me. As I took it, he saluted me and ran off. The note read; '"Hastings STOP Do not alert Comstock to your presence STOP Whatever you do, do not pick #77 STOP Lutece." I had no idea who this Lutece was but the rest was sound advice. Not that I knew what the hell they meant by number 77 but I slid the note in my pocket and got moving again. To the right of the statue, by my perspective anyway, was a poster confirming my concerns. Apparently, the statue protected the lamb from this False Shephard. We shall see about that. I kept moving, entering the fair proper. The first thing I saw was some kind of stage announcing Vigors. These Vigors apparently gave humans all sorts of powers, with an image shown of a man lighting a lightbulb with a bolt from his fingers. These claims would be easy to ignore if not for the fact that two people were demonstrating these powers before my eyes! They could make men float, shoot lightning from their fingertips and, worst of all, one could even make fireballs! Floating would be annoying, lighting hurts like a bitch and fire?! Fire is fucking lethal to Kindred, really lethal. Despite popular understanding, humans aren't all that flammable, a side effect of being mostly made of water. Kindred are. Kindred are in fact extremely flammable. Even with my Fortitude, I had no desire to be set on fire. It does a ton of damage and takes forever to heal.

What had I learned then? Columbia was far, FAR more dangerous than I thought. The Kine here could all possibly have powers that'd make a Tremere green with envy, this is not good! I hide my mounting fear and walked on, perhaps a bit jitterier than before. I ignored most of the fair attractions. After the spectacle I'd just witnessed, I had no desire to make myself visible to the public. Best I just faded into the background. My attempt to simply be part of the crowd was disrupted by another attraction. Where the vigor demonstration had scared the shit out of me, this one was just horrifying. Up on stage was this… thing. A melding of machine and man, nearly 9 feet tall with hands as big as a man's torso. The entire thing was cybernetic except for the head, which looked like a normal human head. It could've been a suit if not for how the thing was acting. It wasn't showing itself off, like a man in a suit would. No, this thing was hiding its face and cowering before the crowd. It was afraid, perhaps ashamed of what it was? It didn't matter really. What mattered is that these people, this cult had done something that might even make Strauss's stone heart quiver in rage. I swore then that after Elizabeth was free, I would return here and lay waste to this place so that this would never happen again. With this new purpose in my heart, I walked on.

At the end of this street was a blocked gate guarded by some kind of vending machine/android hybrid. The damn thing wouldn't let me pass, apparently I wasn't important enough. To the right of me was a free sample stall for a Vigor run by a rather pretty girl. She quickly noticed my presence and walked over. "Machine giving you trouble, Mister?"

I sighed and looked at her. "Yeah, kinda wanna see the rest of the fair."

She smiled and oddly sultry smile for a place this religious. "Well, I have something that may help you." She pulled out one of the bottle in the basket hanging at her waist. "With Possession, you can take back control from the men of metal. Here, it's a free sample."

Shit, this was a problem. See, these Vigors were probably meant to be consumed by living humans. Which I was no longer. Chances are, I could just down the damn thing and have nothing happen except a visit to the bathroom to vomit it out later. Which would… hold on... Taking care to not smirk, I instead gave her my charming smile and took the bottle, downing it quickly. She smiled at my 'enthusiasm', saying in a low voice "With just a whisper, they're all ears." She then drew a large heart with her fingers, something which would've had more of an effect, I think, had the Vigor worked. Which, surprise, it had not. She then blew me a kiss and giggled. I smiled back then began to mime retching. Her demeanor went from sultry to concerned in a heartbeat. "Hey, you ok Mister?" She rested a hand on my heaving shoulder.

"Bathroom…" I croaked out. She nodded and walked to the machine, inserting some kind of card which opened the gate. While I kept up the 'about to vomit' act, she led me past a man and woman just past the gate and into a nearby washroom. She helped me open the stall while I proceeded to puke. Just as planned.

I'd figured that there was a bathroom just beyond the gate and that the girl would have access through said gate. One fake illness later and I was through the gate. Best of all, no need to worry about not vomiting. I'd have to puke up the damn vigor anyway, no need to wait. I emerged from the stall, wiping my mouth and panting. She walked over and rested a hand on my arm. "Are you ok, Sir?"

I gave her a 'grateful' smile, "Yes, of course. Thank you, my dear. It's a pleasure to see such a beautiful girl with such a kind heart."

She blushed wildly, "Why Sir, I'm just a humble fair worker. I'm not worthy of such praise."

I lightly tipped up her chin with the tip of my index finger. "I wholeheartedly disagree, my dear. Thank you again." She nodded, frozen in place as I released her chin and walked to the sink. One quick drink from it and I was out the door before she could react, gargling and spitting the water into a nearby bush as I went. As I walked past the entrance, a man and woman stepped in front of me. The woman had a plate held a platter with a coin on it, while the man wore a blackboard over his chest. Said blackboard was labeled with heads and tails with, so far, all the flips having landed on heads.

"Heads…" said the man.

"Or tails?" Said the woman. Both were dressed in matching period outfits. Perhaps some sort of survey. Weird but whatever.

"Err… tails I suppose."

The woman extended the platter as the man again said, "Heads…"

"Or tails?" finished the woman. I shrugged then took the coin from the platter, flipping it back onto the platter. It, oddly enough, landed on heads yet again.

The man simply looked at the woman and said "Told you."

"Hm." The woman replied before reaching over and leaving another tally mark on the board.

The man went on, saying, "I never find it as satisfying as I'd imagined."

The woman pushed his chin up lightly, replying with, "Chin up, There's always next time"

"I suppose there is." With that, the two stepped aside and I was able to move on.

As I walked further along, I left the streets and again got a view of open sky. Across another skylane, I saw a massive balloon of Franklin holding a key tied to the same building as another large balloon figure of Washington, this one holding a sword. Down the way, I saw a large sign over an arch. The arch had a large wooden sign with the words "Columbia Raffle and Fair" painted on it. Before I could walk through the arch, there was another poster on a stand in the middle of it, this one again warning people of the False Shephard, saying that he would be known through his maw. Wait…

The poster was a massive open mouth with the teeth illuminated in bright white against the darkness of the mouth interior. What struck me were the canines, the fangs. For they could be nothing else, they were long and pointed, like my own, like those of any Kindred. Many fictional vampires have the ability to retract and extend their fangs. Actual Kindred, however, cannot. It's the easiest way to identify us, only reason it doesn't work is that staring at the mouth and teeth is weird, a social norm I suspect was in fact put in place by Kindred elders.

Regardless, this was concerning as I walked through the arch. Further along, I could hear a crowd singing a song together, the main words that I caught were various repetitions and alterations of "Goodnight Irene." With one path blocked by police, I decided that making them move would be a waste of blood and risky, especially if they in fact knew how to handle Kindred, so I instead turned towards the singing and went up a stairway. At the top was a large stage with a signing crowd around it. On the stage was a man with a top hat in a nice suit conducting the group. As I stepped down onto the main area, the singing ceased and the man held out his hands, yelling, "And now, the 1912 raffle has officially begun!" There was a gap in the crowd that would let me get up close. At the end of the gap was a girl who called to me with a "Hey, Mister!" and waved me over.

I stepped up, smiling again. "Thank you Miss, but I'm not interested in buying a ticket."

She giggled and replied, "Silly. There's never a charge for the raffle. You been sleeping under a rock?"

"Something like that," I replied as I picked up a baseball from the basket at her waist. Upon turning it over, I noticed that it was labeled 77. Shit, is this what the telegram meant? Also, how did the telegram know about this?!

I turned the ball towards her and she said, "77? That's a lucky number. I'll be rooting for you." She winked and walked off as the Master of Ceremonies spoke up.

"Bring me the bowl!" He cried as a girl started walking across the stage, a bowl in her hands, "Is that not the prettiest young white girl in all of Columbia?"

Ah… that's right. I forgot about the racism in this era. Not questioned and omnipresent. Better get used to it then…

The MC reached into the bowl, still yelling. "All right then… the winner is…" He drew out the pause as he removed a piece of paper and read it, "Number 77!"

Great… wonder what I won. Hope it's not a vigor or something. Next to me a woman pointed at me, yelling out, "Over here! Over here! He's the winner!"

The MC looked directly at me and said, "Number 77 come here and claim your prize!" Music had begun to play as the curtains were drawn back.

"First throw!" He cried as the curtains revealed a man and woman, each tied to a post. A white man and black woman. Oh God… this was a stoning. They were going to stone these two for being together. At that point, I recognized the music being played as a parody of wedding music. The two were begging to be spared, the man asking the crowd to take him instead. I watched in horror as wooden racial caricatures sprung up around them, monkeys with this blackface look you only see in old pictures, like the horrid past of the US come to life before my very eyes.

The MC turned towards me and spoke again, "Come on, are you going to throw it? Or are you taking your coffee black these days?" He laughed as if he'd made some kind of funny joke. I thought it was sick and it was the last straw. This place was fucked up beyond all reason. And I was going to see it burn. I never understood how the Brujah saw the world, all fire and rage. But now I got it. Hell, I felt it. This was the last straw, I'd had enough. It was time to rage.

"I've got something for you, you son of a bitch." I raised my hand to throw only for a policeman to catch my arm.

Another quickly took my other arm as the MC crouched in front of me. "Now, where did those teeth come from, boy? Don't you know chompers like those make you that back-stabbin' snake-in-the-grass False Shephard?" He got to his feet, speaking to the crowd. "And we ain't letting no False Shephard into our flock!" Around me the crowd cheered, already promised bloodlust, now they were ready to lynch their anti-Christ. "Show him what we got planned boys!"

With that, the cop holding my left arm raised a strange device, with 3 hooks built into it, spinning it up. No doubt he planned to bash my head in, I had other plans. I looked the other cop straight in the eyes and said one word, "Release." Dominate did the rest, his hands opened. It was a brief opening, but enough. Quick as a viper, my hand was at the back of his head which I slammed right into the hook machine. The machine dug into his head, caving in the skull in a splatter of blood. But I was already shifting my focus to the cop holding the device. These yokels believe in the False Shephard. Time to show what that means. I pulled the dead man away, the hook staying imbedded in his head as I grabbed the other cop and pulled him close, sinking my teeth into his neck with practiced ease.

It was as great as it always was, tasting blood. I drank and drank and drank until there I was sucking at a shriveled husk of a vein. Around me, I could hear the crowd dispersing with shocks of fear and horror at my actions. Good, let them be afraid of me. Might make them hesitate. I dropped the dead man only for 2 more cops to come running, one with a bat in hand. I could've killed him with melee, but I have guns. One hand slid into my coat as I removed my handgun of choice, the IMI Desert Eagle. Cliché, but the stopping power is second to none and handling the recoil a breeze with my superior strength. The gun barked twice and the two men dropped like puppets with cut strings. I only hit one in the head, the other went down clutching a bleeding shoulder wound but it didn't matter. He was down and out, nuff said. I stepped over the 4 bodies in my wake and went up the steps beyond.

I almost pitied the poor guards ahead of me. Their anti-Christ had come and was as scary as their stories said he was. But then I remembered what they were guarding, a fucked up city ran by a delusional cult leader. Then the pity faded. Stealth had failed, now my only way forward would be at the point of the sword, at the barrel of the gun.

I smiled a dry, pitiless smile. It was time to get work.

 **AN: Yes, I am starting another story. I blame my muse, it changes interests often. Gonna try something new this time though. Gonna more or less put my nose to the bleeding grindstone and try to crank out the story as fast as possible. Basically get as much done as I can before the muse shifts, I guess. Dunno how it'll go but we'll see. Outer Heaven on the Narrow Sea isn't dead yet. I'll probably get back into it if I get back into MGS and/or Game of Thrones. We'll see.**

 **Ok, so to those who are Vampire: the Masquerade fans, yes I gave Dustin the power to withstand sunlight. In my defense, I'd be hard to have him go through all of Bioshock Infinite without once being in the sunlight. So, I used my author powers, via Caine who also has such powers, to let him be a Daywalker. Hope my heresy ain't too bad.**

 **To those who have no idea what all the Vampire stuff is about, patience. There is plenty of down time for Elizabeth and Dustin to discuss such things. All will be clear in time.**

 **That's about it for this one. Should have the next chapter up in a few days, provided the muse holds up. Which is the whole point of the new method. But, I have high hopes for this one! See ya later! If there are enough reviews in by the next chapter, I'll post some replies. If not, I'll wait on review responses. Not on new chapters though, I'm not gonna hold ya hostage, (thought reviews do tend to give me impetus to write more, make of that what you will). Next chapter should be fairly soon though, next couple days. See ya!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

At the top of the steps, funnily enough, was a large draw bridge leading straight to Monument Island, along with two more guards, both running at me with bats. I could shoot them with my pistol, but chances are this was going to be a long campaign so I decided that these morons would meet the end of my blade. With speed born of countless practices, my pistol returned to its holster and the Tal'Meh'Ra blade was drawn, held in the two handed grip required for proper katana use. Both cops charged, batons held high. A mistake that I made clear by impaling the first one through the gut. The new cadaver's former comrade took the chance to bash me upside the head, a move I countered by catching the bat with my hand, thanking God for my Fortitude all the while, before yanking it from his hand and smashing the 'pommel' of the baton against his forehead. As he stumbled back, I withdrew the katana from the corpse, stepped past it and in one smooth motion beheaded the final guard. Sadly, the time I took to dispose of the guards had cost me, for while I fought the guards, the platform leading to Monument Island had been retracted.

As I stepped up to the now blocked passage, I heard yet more yelling behind me as more guards came to call. In one smooth motion, I turned and arched my sword through the torso of the man about to club the back of my head. No bisection, something I've never pulled off, but he did drop with a gaping chest wound. However, it seems that the police had gotten their heads together because the next one opened fire on me. Of course, I was only made aware of this by the gunfire, by which time a couple rounds had already punched through my body. I slipped into cover and pulled out my hand gun again, quickly returning fire. Sadly, I was a better shot and the cop soon laid dead. Walking near him, my eye noticed something, his weapon. It was a Mauser, which firstly has hilarious because it's a German firearm. But it also illuminated something for me. There would be ammunition for my personal firearms up here. Nothing for the MAC-10 and nothing for the Desert Eagle. Which left one last option. I reached into a coat pocket and pulled out the Mauser given to me by the couple on the rowboat. Sure enough, the dead cop carried stripper clips for my gun. Smiling at this good fortune, I looted the dead man's ammo belt and walked off with my Mauser in hand.

Down another set of steps through the backstage area was a docked gondola. As I walked up the entry ramp, above me a set of more policemen somehow rode along the skyrails above me, landing in front of me with weapons at the ready. After quickly dispatching the group, I decided it was time to add to my arsenal. See, the cops had used some kind of handheld hook device to ride those rails. The same one that was going cave my head in at the fair. Deciding it would be a useful tool, I picked it up and slid it over my left hand. Each finger slipped into a trigger, no doubt to control myself when riding rails. Deciding to table the skyhook exploration for the time being, I moved on. At the end of the gondola was a turret facing away from me. Grabbing a wrench, I shoved it into the clockwork machinery of the turret. The machine sputtered twice then went dead. Smirking at the inferiority of 1912 technology, I hopped off the gondola back into (relatively) solid ground.

Two cops came to greet me with yet more gunfire but seemed incapable of either hitting me or taking gunfire themselves, as both went down after a bullet to the chest. Taking the time to loot one for more ammo. I kept moving. There had to be another way to Monument Island and by God I was going to find it. As I went down the stairs, I was met with yet more evidence of the police learning the lessons I was teaching, as one came up behind me and beaned me upside the head. Quickly turning around, I barely avoided the next blow from another cop. Three of them had shown up. I fired my pistol once into the closest cop's gut then pulled him close as a shield as I fired 2 rounds at his comrades. At this range, missing was nearly impossible and my bullets tore through their skulls without issue. With his comrades dead, I shoved my human shield forward and quickly ended his life as well.

To my left was another street, this one with yet more cops at the end of it firing at me. Their bullets were going wide, indicative of the training policemen get here (very little if I had to guess). I raised my own pistol and pulled the trigger, only to be met with an empty click. I quickly moved to cover and started reloading the damn gun. I'd never used a stripper clip before and quickly realized why box magazines had been the norm for nearly a hundred years. The damn things sucked. It took forever, relatively speaking, to get the weapon ready to go again. Fortunately, the police were apparently unwilling to take risks against me and held to the barricade at the end of the street, making it all too easy for me to slowly move up and pick them off one by one. As the last cop fell, I walked forward, thinking I was in the clear, only to be ambushed by a turret I hadn't noticed, which greeted me with a barrage of machine gun fire to my chest. I dove for cover, my chest riddle with holes. I peeked out of my cover, a thankfully tall planter, with my pistol held up and ready to shoot. I got off pone shot before the turret opened fire again, this time nailing me in the head. Crying out in pain, I got back behind cover. Enough was enough, that damn thing could take 9 mm rounds all day. Time to step up. Setting the Mauser down, I pulled my Desert Eagle back out and poked my head out again, feathering the trigger with the gun pointed at the turrets general direction. The damn thing got a couple shots off but went dead not long after. I sat back behind the cover, holstering the magnum and picking up the Mauser again. A quick thought sent my blood out to heal the wounds. Good thing I'd drained that cop dry earlier, good of me to think ahead. After taking a moment to rest and heal, I wiped my face with a Kleenex in my pocket and got to my feet. Good news about this was now I'd look even scarier, with my outfit riddle with bloody holes. I had been shot, that would be obvious and equally obvious would be that I'd healed up. Bullets didn't stop me. That thought made me smile as I hoped the barricade and moved on.

As I stepped past the arch onto another street, I was greeted by yet more trigger happy police. As I engaged them in a firefight, one of them started to yell about a fireman, that a fireman was coming.

I decided that this was the time to start taunting these morons. "Bullets aren't working, so you're going try a hose and water? Please!"

A reply from the other side was forthcoming, "Just you wait, False Shephard. Soon you'll be burning in hell!" I rolled my eyes at this and put down two police with my Mauser, only for the rest to start falling back. Odd, zealots retreating? Why? I took advantage of the retreat and moved up on them. They fell back down the street, which curved down and to the right between two rows of buildings. Various stalls served as cover but weren't used as they fell back. I kept picking them off one by one before reaching a gate, stepping over the corpses of fallen police. The gate was warm, as was the air. Too warm, something was up. As I pushed the gate open, the reason became disturbingly obvious. Beyond the gate, perched on a knocked over box was a man dressed in what looked like some kind of diving suit if not for the fact that said had fire coming off of it. This must be the fireman then. The man yelled out "Burn in the name of the Prophet!" before unleashing blasts of flame around him. None near me, but I doubted that would hold. I raised my pistol and opened fire immediately. He didn't take too kindly to this and chucked what looked like a small meteor at me. I side stepped it only for the damn thing to blow us when it landed! I screamed in pain just from the edges of the blast and feathered the trigger, trying to put him down as fast as possible. But he just took the shots like nothing and advanced on me, throwing another fireball. I sprinted out of the blast zone, trying to flank this guy. Even so, the explosion still made me flinch. As if compelled by the fires, he charged at me, yelling something unintelligible. My pistol was empty but I had a backup plan in the form of my other personal firearm. My hand went into my coat and out came the MAC-10. I held the trigger down as a spray of 9 mm rounds hit the fireman head on. He kept going for a moment then fell to the ground under the onslaught. I was about to relax when he flashed and exploded, sending me flying back against the wall in agony, my back slamming into the stone before sliding down. I was lucky, if not for Fortitude, I would've been destroyed by that explosion. I took a moment to rest there, again using blood to heal my wounds. I'd learned an important lesson. These morons may be brainwashed, racist lunatics, but they're no slouches in combat. I'd need to be more careful. And I was reminded of something I really shouldn't have forgotten

I hate fire.

* * *

After taking time to heal, I got back on my feet, reloaded and holstered my submachine gun and gingerly walked out of the burning street, as the fireman had set nearly everything flammable ablaze. Past the flaming street, I could see a well-lit part of the street and made for it.

Ding.

I dove back into cover as the turret at the end of the street opened fire. Without hesitation, I removed my magnum and returned fire, giving the damn automaton 3 new holes before it finally quit and exploded. Emerging from my cover, and reloading, I saw down the street a sign that said "Monument Island". Apparently it was a bridge, another missing one at that. As I reached the end of the street a gate to the left of me sung open as cops, and bullets, spilled out to meet me, threats spewing from their lips. I raised my Mauser and returned fire, feeling a couple bullets nick me but nothing worrying. The police quickly dropped and easily gave up their ammo when I checked them for more stripper clips. Hm, running out of room in the coat. Best I stop looking for now. Beyond them, and up some steps, was a building with a large sign saying "Blue Ribbon" with all sorts of, what else, blue ribbon motifs serving as decorations. I walked up the steps and entered the building, pistol at the ready.

Inside, it became clear that this place was a restaurant, an oddly quiet one at that. I slowly entered the building, moving down the hall with my pistol held high. It was classy, like smoking rooms you'd see in 1912. Classy bars and such. To my right was the main bar, empty except for a man hunched over at one end of the bar and another wiping down the bar at the other end. At the door into the kitchen stood a woman. As I walked in, I lowered the pistol. There were the same two from the coin flip survey.

"We have company." Said the man.

"We do indeed." Said the woman.

No more mister nice guy, now they would meet the monster beneath, "Why are you following me? What do you want?"

"We were already here." The woman replied

"Why are YOU following US?"

I stalked forward in no mood for games. "Answer the damn question, why are you here?"

The man sighed, rolling his eyes, "Are we not allowed to oversee a job we assign?"

"Seems rather arrogant, expecting no oversight." Said the woman.

"Oversight? Wait… you're the couple from the rowboat aren't you!" That explained why there were here, but not how. "How did you get up here, there was only one rocket."

The two looked at each other, then the woman in the doorway smirked, "Spoilers, Mr. Hastings." With that cryptic reply, she stepped aside. I looked between the two, only met with stone faces from both. I could try to get answers, but I had a girl to save so I sighed and stepped through the door into the kitchen. Behind me I heard them banter again.

"Rather rude chap, isn't he?" said the strange woman.

"Yes, but he seems skilled enough." Said the man.

"Hm, we shall see won't we."

With that, I entered the kitchen.

* * *

Walking through the kitchen to a back hallway, I was met with sunlight streaming through windows with a gondola announcing "Blood on the streets! And worse is the insult, because today is the day that marks our secession from the Sodom below!" I could hear no more as the gondola moved on and I stepped out onto a balcony only to find no nearby street to walk down. Just open air. In front of me was another building, gently bobbing up and down like a buoy on the water. And attached to said building were two hooks. Hm… could I… I reached into my coat and pulled out the sky hook from where I'd hung it (my coat is full of all sorts of pockets and loops just for things like this), and put it on, looking it over. Maybe I could use this? The jump from here to the hooks was long, too long for even me to jump. I looked at the hook, raised the skyhook towards it and pulled the main trigger, thinking it'd work like a grappling hook. It did not, instead pulling hard on my arm towards the hook. I held on until I felt my feet sliding against the ground, which made me let go of a trigger instantly. Still, lesson learn, this thing is magnetized. Which… I looked at the hook down at the ground again and sighed. Then, I took a few steps back and broke into a run, leaping off the edge and extending the skyhook towards the building hook and pulling the trigger. No longer bound by my feet, the skyhook pulled hard as it slammed into the larger hook. I hung there, swinging back and forth as I tried to catch my nonexistent breath. "Holy shit…" I mumbled. A head of me was a path made up of 3 more hooks, all along the side of a building. I sighed and started swinging, this wasn't going to be fun. After building up enough moment, I released the trigger. Then at the arc of the resulting swing, I aimed the skyhook forward and activated the magnet, again slamming into the hook. This time, though, I kept the resulting swing going, no need to waste time. After building up enough nerve, I repeated the motion, swinging a much further gap to the next hook attached to the next building then to the buildings other hook. Ahead of me, I saw a rooftop and a policeman patrolling it. Apparently, he had no idea I was here. Perfect. Hm… I looked up at the hook, back down at the guard and smiled wide. I got some more momentum going then swung free of the hook. I'd gotten it perfectly, coming down right on top of the guard, skyhook first. His skull gave way under the impact force, blood falling all over the floor and the skyhook. As I got to my feet, I realized that he was carrying a rather strange rifle. It looked like someone had miniaturized a 1912 era machine gun. But submachine guns and assault rifles were years away, what gives? Regardless, I picked up the weapon. After figuring out how to release the magazine, I confirmed that this was in fact a submachine gun. Well, not going look a gift horse in the mouth. I returned the skyhook and Mauser to their rightful places in my coat and hefted the submachine gun, after looting the poor bastard I'd killed of any and all ammo. Thankfully, this weapon used box magazines. I could just keep my Mauser as a collector's item for when this is all over.

What? I happen to like historic guns.

Anyway, to my right was a stairway leading to a lower section of roof. It was covered in smoke and mist, impossible to see through. Only way forward was through it. So, down I went into the mist, submachine gun at the ready. Halfway into the mist, I heard them, yelling and running as Columbia's finest came to kill me. I raised the machine gun and opened fire, pleasantly surprised at how well it shot. I expected a 1912 submachine gun to be unusable, but this was a very good gun, easy to keep on target. They fired back of course, and the dance of bopping in and out of cover while shooting mooks began again. As I went up the stairs to the next level, I heard the now familiar ringing and took cover as a turret shot at me, mowing down the remaining police who had clear shots at me before turning my new gun on the turret. I doubt that the machine gun had a significantly bigger round than my Mauser but quantity made up for lack of quality here and the turret was soon reduced to a pile of shrapnel. After the turret was dealt with I moved forward only to again hear a gondola based speaker blaring; "As Our Prophet has seen, the False Shephard has come! He has come to take our lamb and lead her astray." With that, I moved forward down another set of stairs, back into the mists. Ahead of me, I could see a squad leap of a gondola, which then pulled away. I raised the rifle and fired a couple bursts towards where the men landed before taking cover.

At this point, I'm starting to wonder how I would get to Monument Island. I was more or less making it up as I go, my usual tactic for missions like this. But I was apparently getting nowhere fast. Not good. As the firefight winded down as I killed one cop after another, I emerged from cover only to return to cover as a turret opened up. Fortunately, to my right was another pathway, which I quickly took as I was hoping to flank the gondola the turret was on. Or at least avoid tangling with it, no need to waste ammo after all. Sadly, as I emerged on the other end of the path, I was met with more turret fire and the yelling of more police forces. No dice. So, I took cover and began to engage. To be honest, I usually preferred swordplay in regards to combat and I was better at it. Don't get me wrong, I'm a good gun fighter, but blades are more… stimulating. And common, among Kindred. Gunfights are usually them firing as many rounds at me as they can, I avoid most of them and return fire with much more accuracy, rinse and repeat will the enemy runs out of manpower. And once again, so it proved here. Only interesting bit was when I discovered that I'd missed a guy when he came charging down the way I came with club held high. And even then, all I did was fill him with a burst of lead and get back to the rest. Simple really, oh well.

As I entered the final rooftop in this area, I heard the gondola PA kick on again, saying "Everyone stay calm and lock your doors if you can. The Prophet foresaw that this day would come and he is prepared. The answer is not in panic, but in prayer." Yes, Comstock foresaw an angry Kindred blitzkreiging his men to steal his precious lamb/hostage. Why am I not surprised he's claiming this? It didn't matter though. I leapt up to a hook then off it again to the next rooftop, pleased at how quickly I was adjusting to the skyhook system. And, at last, there was a door to a building interior here. I seemed to have landed on a balcony of some restaurant. Anyway, I kicked down the door with my machine gun at the ready only to find an empty kitchen. Typical. Then, I heard a voice, "Violence is not the answer!" what I thought was a man's voice implored, "As much as I support her cause and her people, blood must not be shed." Her? Who is this her?

Another voice spoke up, that of a woman, "What do you expect those poor Negroes to do? How they treat them, it's bound to happen!" Ah, some kind of anti-racism group. Figures I'd see something like that. I approached the door the voices seemed to be on the other side of, smirking. Wonder what they'll think of the False Shephard. Only one way to find out. With that, I opened the doors and walked into the next room. It was well appointed, carpet and wood paneling everywhere. I actually liked the look of the place and it was a nice break from the more industrial rooftops.

"Violence is not a foregone conclusion." The man said, apparently further in the house. To my left was a set of printing presses and as I entered the printing room I heard the woman yelp as the man said, "It's him. The one they're after… Go. They'll be looking for you!"

As if on que, a voice came from the front door, "Police! We're in need of your assistance."

"They're here!" the woman cried.

"Shh, keep your voice down!" the man advised.

I looked at them. "Stay here and stay quiet, I'll be right back." With that, I started down a side hallway to, I hope another door. And sure enough, I was right. I checked my submachine gun and smiled. Time to deal with the yokels. I kicked open the door and stepped out, brazen as could be. Yet, apparently they didn't hear me. So, I corrected that by gunning down one of them at near point blank range. As the others rallied, and were gunned down as they scattered, a turret at a raised portion of the street down from where I was ringed and came to life. In the distance, I could hear rockets going off but no explosions near me. Perhaps some sort of signal? Didn't really matter, I had fighting to do. There were more here and they actually served a proper challenge, my first since the fireman earlier. Just as I thought that, guess what came running up. Shit, this thing alone was bad enough. But then… I had an idea. I poked my head out and looked one of the goons next to the fireman in the eyes and shouted at the top of my lungs. " **Kill**." Dominate would not be denied, as the man pointed his gun at the Fireman and unloaded on him. The fireman survived and killed the poor sod instantly but I had the opening I needed. I leapt out of cover and charged, emptying my submachine gun at the flaming monstrosity. By the time he could have turned to retaliate, he was already dying. I dove to a nearby crate to withstand the oncoming explosion, dropped my submachine gun and pulled out my magnum again, putting 3 rounds into the turret. Somehow, I was fast enough to put the turret down so that it exploded in tandem with the fireman. I holstered the magnum and got to my feet with a smile. If I was this good back in Glaze, I think I understood why one witness told the news that I looked like something out of an action movie. I was that good.

Up ahead, there was a giant building that I swore I could hear some sort of wailing from it. The building was marked with an insignia that was dominated by the image of an eye. Probably some kind of secret police. Well, there was no way forward and fucking up the local Gestapo greatly appealed to me so in I went.

* * *

As I opened the first set of doors into the garden ahead of the Eye building, the statue in the center of the garden caught my eyes. It was of Comstock, figures, in a pitched battle with a two headed snake. Both heads were human, one being a black caricature and the other being a Chinese caricature. At the base, the words "Comstock fights the serpents of nations" were carved. Figures, reminds me of those anti multiculturalism morons back home. Just what I didn't need. I walked around the statue and further into the garden towards the back wall, where the entrance proper was located. Somehow, walking into this place made the air get darker. It couldn't be sunset, we don't go from full sunlight to near darkness within a minute. Eh, was probably just the atmosphere. Place seemed oppressive, like Grout's mansion all those years ago.

The first thing that hit me when I opened the doors into the building was the smell. The place reeked of rotting foot and bird droppings, both of which stood in the middle of the room in front of me. Well, rotting food was for sure, as were a few bids wandering the room. Beyond the door on the other side, I could see the beginnings of another large statue. I could hear crows everywhere. To most this would be creepy, and it did affect me at first. But people underestimate the humble raven, they are very clever birds. This would be useless to me, if not for the fact that I had learned Animalism a decade ago from Beckett, not long before the Sarcophagus affair went hot. Either way, I made eye contact with a bird and called it to me telepathically, extending my arm to let it perch.

 _"What manner of food-provider are you? You smell… dead."_

I smirked at that, _"Technically I am. I have some questions, would you be willing to assist me?"_

 _"That depends on what you'd do for me and the flock."_

 _"Free you from this place perhaps?"_

 _"Why would we want to leave wood-food-cave? There is much food here?"_

 _"There is more food beyond. Fresh food that is not rotting."_

 _"You mean like the food-that-is-new? That the food-providers give to us before it becomes lesser-food?"_

 _"Indeed. And a whole city to provide such food."_

 _"What is city?"_

 _"A city is where a… a flock of food-providers lives."_

 _"Ah. Wait, we are in wood-food-cave inside bigger-wood-food-cave?"_

 _"Er… not really… More like, in one wood-food-cave of many."_

 _"So this flock all live in many wood-food-caves? Such space!"_

 _"Yes, and open sky between them."_

 _"Sky… you mean endless-blue?"_

 _"Yes, endless-blue. Outside is endless-blue willed with many wood-food-caves."_

 _"Ah. One moment."_ With that, the raven cawed a few times, only for me to be nearly deafened when the rest of the ravens replied in a great cacophony of noise. As my ears rang the bird looked back at me and I reestablished the mental link.

 _"We will help you, for endless-sky of wood-food-caves."_ Thought the raven

 _"Excellent. Now, what is this place?"_

 _"The food-providers called it the Fraternal Order of the Raven."_

 _"What does this order do?"_

 _"They look for threats to the food-provider flock, apparently."_

 _"Why?"_

 _"We do not know."_

Right, birds wouldn't care about human politics. _"Are there other food-providers here?"_ I asked.

 _"Yes, they are listening to a leader speak to his flock. Something about a newcomer who intends to destroy the flock."_

 _"Ah… the False Shephard then. Makes sense."_

 _"That is the word used. What is a False Shephard?"_

 _"Well, I am."_

 _"Ah, you come to disrupt the social order then?"_

 _"Do you care?"_

 _"No. Food is food. The flock dynamics of food-providers means nothing to me or my flock."_

"Hm…" Probably not much else I could get from the birds. _"Alright. I will release you then."_

 _"Thank you, Great-Emancipator. We shall not forget this. Call us, and we shall come."_ And with that, the bird flew off my arm as I turned around and threw open the doors behind me before quickly moving to the side. As predicted, the ravens rushed the door, flying out at full speed in a great rush of flapping wings, shifting feathers and cawing. After a minute of this deluge of black, the flock had departed. I stepped out of my little alcove. I began to walk back into the room, leaving the doors wide open. Best I keep the doors open for the rest of the birds. The place was far quieter without the ravens. It was an improvement. Now, the place only looked dark and oppressive and smelled horrid. Not a major improvement but I'll take what I can get. With this in mind, I entered the next room.

I had spoken too soon. The statue I had seen when I entered was of John Wilkes Booth. Why did these lunatics revere the man who shot Lincoln? Why would anyone?! Unless… oh God no. Do they think slavery was good? Hm… questions for later. Behind the statue was a pair of stairways to the second floor but to my right was a large dining hall. Inside, I saw movement so I decided to start there. I doubt the ravens could tell me what this place was about, but one lone human would. Plus… I did need some blood. It was time to feed again. When I walked into the dining hall towards him, he quickly turned towards me and yelled out "It's him!" An act which he then followed up with gunfire, pulling a pistol and firing at me. I dove behind the table and returned fire, quickly putting him down, only for bullets to rake my back from my left and behind me. I leapt over the table, this time seeing and shooting the other guy at the end of the hall, before using the table to gun down the idiot who'd shot me in the back. That left the last moron who'd shot me in the back. I popped out of cover and looked him in the eyes, yelling " **Stop.** " He froze in place, immobilized by my power. I casually walked up to him, reloading my submachine gun as I went before again making eye contact. " **Tell me everything you know about the Order of the Raven**."

The man stumbled but could not resist my powers and began to speaking a hoarse monotone, taking irregular pauses, most likely still trying to resist Dominate. "We revere the… Saint John Wilkes Booth… For he killed the… Emancipator who ended… the righteous practice of… slavery. We maintain God's will by… maintaining the… purity of Columbia. Ensuring that it keeps its… rightful place as… God's chosen city and… better than the rest of the… Sodom below."

"I see. Now, **hold still**." With that, I leaned in and sunk my fangs into his neck. Such sweet succor… I needed it after all the blood I'd been spending so far. And I was going to drain this lunatic dry. Thinking that Lincoln was wrong to end slavery? Racial Purity as God's will? Give me a break.

As the dry corpse of the Raven member fell to the ground, I turned and left the room, intent on leaving this place after killing each of these racist nutjobs. Returning to the statue room, I went up the steps to the next room. Down the hall in front of me was a massive chamber, no doubt the main audience chamber. As I entered, I saw a massive painting of Washington holding up what looked like Liberty Bell, like an idiot hunter holds up a cross to repel Kindred. Below the Washington image, which I decided I would look at more closely once the room was cleared, I heard voices emanating. Well, one voice really, saying "And so, the Prophet led us into Peking, where we demonstrated to the Sodom Below the true mission our Founders had given us!" Using the opening, I slipped in closer to get a good look at the group as the nutjob went on. Big one, plenty of people. Oh what I wouldn't give for a hand grenade right now. The Speaker's voice was, strange, interspersed with the sound of birds and the sound of meat being chewed up, "And when the Mandarins and hypocrites of Washington betrayed him," the speaker went on, "our Prophet did not heel. He did not come crawling for their forgiveness... Like our fathers broke from the Great Apostate, our Prophet broke with these so-called "patriots"... and today is the day we celebrate the secession..."

And with that, the meeting of the Order was concluded. And if it wasn't I'd soon correct that as I came out of cover and opened fire, firing quick bursts down at the crowd. I downed three of the nine people before the other six could rally. The speaker, another vigor user by the looks of it, judging by that odd diving suit knockoff he wore, simply vanished in a tuff of feathers. Teleporting, great. Be on the lookout for that. From behind the stage more emerged. Unfortunately for them, I had the high ground and I'm a great shot. By the time a couple had gotten up the stair ways to the sides of the theater, I'd gunned down everyone below me. And those two were easily dispatched with my machine gun. As a side note, I really was loving this gun. It isn't perfect and I would kill for my Steyr right now but it was doing the job and doing it well. As I descended the steps into the theater proper. I finally got a good look at the mural on the wall. Only with this closer look did I see the full meaning of this thing. It was as the Raven member I'd interrogated said. They saw Columbia as racially superior. After all, the only white man on the mural was Washington and he held the Liberty Bell, and the Ten Commandments that I could see now, as a weapon against all sorts of darkened racial caricatures. After sneering at the lunatic ideas of these people, I turned to the right and left the room, entering a hallway. I quickly made my way to the door at the other end and opened it, stepping into a room full of various desks. Somewhere a radio blared about the attack at about 1:00 that afternoon. My attack no doubt. Wait… "Fired into a crowd of virtuous fair-goers?!" They were there to stone people and I did not fire into them!

I ignored the radio and left the room, heading into a nearby hallway only to step into an elevator. Only one button, which I immediately pushed. Apparently, there were only two floors, that or the elevator was poorly designed. At any rate, the elevator began to rise to the next floor. As the doors opened, my eyes locked on yet another eye insignia. At this close range, I could see that there was a banner incorporated into the insignia. A phrase in Latin; "Audemus Patria Nostra Defendere." Probably meant to mean "We dare to defend our country" but if my memory of Latin serves, I think a better translation. "Oh our Country, we dare to defend." Bit more poetic, I think. Might even be the proper intention. Anyway, enough Latin. I stepped around the wall the eye was hung on to see yet another door before me. Behind me, two vending machines, both a strange mix of modern vending machines and primitive robots as advertising. Through the double doors was a large sitting room, with a large round table with chairs placed around it. Probably the meeting room for the higher ups. On the table sat an old, by my standards, projector. Playing was a film, apparently about a phrenological study of Comstock. Figures that people so obsessed with race would study phrenology. Disregarding the films argument as bunk out of hand, I looked about the room. On the right side of the room, relative to the entrance, stood a bookshelf. An oddly placed on at that. One good heave against it later revealed a far less… welcoming room I suppose. It was a stereotypical turn of the century prison area, tiled everything with a cell to the right. No signs of torture devices but the dried blood all over the place showed that this room was not a good place to be. A quick visual scan revealed nothing of note, so I turned and departed the room.

After passing back through the meeting room, I went up a flight of stairs to another door. As I opened the door, it soon stopped, held in place by a chain. Through the gap, I could see an Asian man chained to a vertical wooden slab, crying for mercy. Then came the ravens, pecking at his flesh. They were quick and brutal and before long, the man's screams were silenced as the ravens withdrew, leaving only a raw, bloody corpse behind. I quickly gave the door a good kick, shattering the chain just in time to see a strange hooded figure with a coffin on his back and sword in hand before vanishing in a cloud of black smoke and feathers. He was the teleporting speaker from earlier. Shit. I across the small bridge in front of me into a garden of some sort. As I entered, I only had a moment's notice between the noise of him teleporting to raise my submachine gun to intercept his sword strike. The gun took it. As I raised the gun to fire, he teleported again, only this time I saw the trick. The ravens around him moved to where he'd teleport next. I dropped the submachine gun and drew the Tal'Meh'Ra. If he wanted a sword duel, he'd have one. He reappeared behind me and slashed at my back. I side stepped the blow, turning and slashing in one fluid motion. Right as my blade would have met his flesh, he again vanish. I didn't stop moving, still turning to stab at where I thought he'd appear next, at my back. And sure enough, he reappeared long enough to see my blade incoming then vanished again. This process repeated itself when he reappeared again, and again, and again. It wasn't working. I needed to trap him. But then, it hit me. I could take a hit, he couldn't. That would be opening. With this decision quickly made, he reappeared again and I let him, turning to slow to be able to hit first. And sure enough, his blade raked across my chest, only doing surface damage thanks to Fortitude. By when my blade raked across his gut, it went deep into the flesh of the stomach. He stumbled back, dropping the sword, an opening I quickly took advantage of by burying my sword in his head, cleaving it open like a melon. He crumbled at that and I sheathed my blade, the blood already healing my injury. I smirked as I picked up my rifle, poor sod was lucky I didn't call in my ravens. Doubt he could stop a whole flock come to kill him. But, it seems that this man hadn't been a fool, as a squad of yet more Raven members came running in from the other door. Hm… maybe it's time I gave this a shot… I raised my head to the sky and, well, cawed for lack of a better word. A noise a human mouth wasn't able to make, except with Animalism. The guards, stupidly, didn't shoot me on sight, instead surrounding me with guns held high.

"Any last words, False Shephard?" said the leader, I presume.

I raised a single finger, a faint smile on my lips. "Wait for it…" I could already hear it, the mass flapping of wings.

"Wait for what?" The leader replied. Apparently, the ravens had excellent dramatic timing for it was then that the windows shattered and they flowed in like tidal wave of black. The men around me raised their weapons to fend of the ravens but were quickly incapacitated by the mass pecking. They wailed in agony as their flesh was picked from their bones. After about 30 seconds of this, the ravens withdrew. Leaving only yellow skeletons with bits of flesh clinging to them where the ravens either didn't bother reach of couldn't. I could see the remains of the heart and lungs in their chests. Gruesome, yet effective. One raven, however landed on a railing in front of me and met my eyes. Getting the meaning instantly, I made mental contact and I heard it 'speak to me', _"Whenever you call, Great-Emancipator."_ With that the bird left, leaving me along in this garden of the dead.

* * *

After climbing the steps at the end of the garden, the first thing I heard was the gondola PA yet again spewing lies about me, saying I was a "either a mulatto or a French men with a missing left eye, no more than four foot and nine inches." Normally, I would complain as to the slander, but as a 6'1" blond haired, blue eyed, and rather good looking young man, at least in appearance, I was pleased at this. The idiots of Columbia would have no idea what I actually looked like until they saw the teeth. Walking out the door with a smirk on my face, yet more good news awaited me, as down a path of building hooks was a gondola station to Monument Island, thankfully labeled in big red neon letters. At least, they looked like neon, not sure if they had that in 1912. Anyway, after a good run to pick up speed, I leapt off the balcony, pulling the skyhook trigger and letting it drag me to the hook. Then, without stopping, I released when I swung forward from the impact, heading for the next hook. This process repeated a couple more times and before long, I was at the gondola station and walking in the front doors.

The interior had a small antechamber that lead into a larger room beyond. It was large with cathedral style vaulted ceilings. In the middle was a smaller version of the statue that held Elizabeth, a massive angel with arms spread wide. Probably this Columbia angel Comstock kept mentioning. But what got my attention first was the guards, who quickly turned to engage me. The result was, of course, another gun fight. As I gunned down more of 'Columbia's finest', they decided that discretion was the better part of valor and fell back, digging in at the far side of the room. I would have moved to pursue them, but once I entered the back half of the room I was met with turret fire. Forgotten about those damn things. After yet more exchanges of gunfire, I'd finally cleared the room at long last. After passing through the room beyond the statue room, where I assume tickets were purchased, I went through a hallway back into open sky. To my left was a, I assume, skyline, thankfully labeled "Skyline to Monument Island". Convenient. With that, I leapt on the damn thing like I'd leapt on all the rest. Only instead of swinging back and forth, I went forward, fast.

Now, this wasn't unexpected what was, was the fact that One: These things were quick, and Two: that most skylines resemble roller coasters, a fact I quickly discovered once the skyline took a dive and I started to speed up even more! And, for future reference, I HATE ROLLER COASTERS! I'd rather be shot than ride a roller coaster! I pulled at the middle finger trigger of the skyhook only to speed up! So, now moments away from losing it, I pulled the ring finger trigger and finally began to slow down, eventually coming to a stop. After taking some time to collect myself, and reminding myself not to look down, I released the brake and pulled the accelerator, speeding up to what I'd call a reasonable speed. As I sped up the rail line, it began to curve back over a balcony, a balcony occupied by a cop. Since this was doubling back, it was time I hopped off and I had the perfect landing platform. Seems that having some speed ahead of time made the impact occur differently. Last time I tried this, I caved the man's skull in. This time well, he vanished. Not like pulverized vanished, I'd smell the blood on the air. I think I hit him so hard he just went flying into the air. Poor bastard, hopefully I killed him on impact or he's got plenty of time to make peace with death. That or sob, either one.

Above me, the PA activated yet again, saying "Take heed, Believers. There is menace! There is threat! The False Shephard, here in Columbia! Full of hate and avarice and guile, like all his kinds on the Sodom Below!" Hate? Starting to. Avarice? Not really. Guile? You bet your sorry ass I'm full of guile. A cop charged from the room leading to the balcony but a burst from the submachine gun ended that little idea. As I searched the room, the PA went on, "He seeks the Lamb. And hastens to her tower, even now. His intent is Ruin." And with that, the local propaganda piece finally shut up, leaving me free to return to the skylines. And best of all, I was starting to get used to them. I shot up the building only to curve back inside towards a stopping point, where a box blocked the line ahead. Thankfully, I could leap off the line and onto a nearby cop's skull, which gave way instantly. And, the cop had the compassion to be right next to the level that controlled the freight! One quick pull of it and my way was again clear.

After hopping back up onto the skyline, I was again caught off guard by the massive drop the line took as it continued its journey to Monument Island. I shot down, then came back up and made a left turn, only to see a gondola with police coming to a stop below me. I couldn't resist and leapt to down to it, killing one on impact and gunning the other down with my machine gun. Down below on the rooftop, most cops began to take positions and fire up. The gondola lacked cover but was high up enough to serve as cover itself, and with my high ground, the enemy had none. Needless to say, they quickly fell before me, and I hopped down to the rooftop below. Higher up, the skyline to Monument Island continued. But… I looked down at the skyhook then back at the skyline. Maybe… I walked up to the closest point I could and pulled the attraction trigger. The skyline was immediately pulled towards the line. With a smile, I leapt back onto the line and kept moving. And here I was worried about a long detour.

And then, there it was. The sky island that made up the statues base. So close… yet so far, as between myself and the island was a clearly impassible gap and the skyline turned back away from the island. But… I did see a line that could reach it and the line I was on stopped at the base of a large building. I wasn't looking forward to fighting my way through yet another building but if I was right, Elizabeth would be free by sundown. As I reached the peak of the line, I could see the base of the building had a balcony to land on. A balcony filled with guards all shooting up at me. Brilliant…I took a deep breath and pulled the accelerator. But, as I dropped down to the guards, a loud horn could be heard, usually accompanying another announcement. I ignored it, readying myself to leap into cover for the ensuing battle when another voice was heard instead, this one a male voice. "Stand down!" it said. But the police did more than that. They didn't just stand down, they knelt. I hopped off the rail right in front of them but, nothing. They just knelt and murmured prayers to themselves, completely ignoring me.

Comstock, it had to be. What else could provoke such a response? Their god had spoken, more or less. And it was time I spoke with him. I turned and entered the building. Inside was an elevator, surrounded by yet more kneeling police and beyond it, out this massive window beyond, was a massive screen on the side of what looked like a blimp. An image of the prophet was playing with the line "Our Prophet" beneath it. As I stepped onto the elevator and pulled the lever to get it moving, the image changed, to the man himself.

"I know why you've come, False Shephard. I see every sin that blackens your soul, parasite. All the dead, drained dry of blood and life. Heather, your ward twisted into something empty and soulless! And now, to pay a debt, you've come for my lamb. What makes you think she won't turn out like your ghoul?"

How does he know about that? How can he know about that? "You don't scare me, charlatan!"

He laughed at this, "Prophecy is my business, Mr. Hastings. As blood is yours. Do you know why these men will die for me? I have seen their future in the glory, and they are content."

"You mean brainwashed!"

He went on as if I'd not spoken. "Why are you here, Parasite? To pay a debt to a courier of men? This will end in blood, Hastings." He smiled wistfully at this. "But then again, it always does with you, doesn't it. It always ends in blood."

"All the better, I think you'd make a fine meal for me Comstock! Killing your flock has left me with a mighty thirst!"

The elevator stopped at this and I stepped off it, continuing my journey towards Elizabeth. "You've come to lead my lamb astray, but thy crook is bent, and thy path is twisted! Go back from the Sodom from whence you came!"

I ignored him and kept moving through the building, only for him to punctuate his point by blasting out a window ahead of me. "Go back!" he yelled as it became clear he had in fact rammed his blimp into the building. Idiot. I decided to accept his invitation and leapt onto the blimp, machine gun barking as I gunned down the guards on the outside. As I landed, the blimp began to move again and I quickly entered the cabin, gunning down yet more guards inside. I went right, opening a gangway door onto what looked like the bridge of the damn thing. Praying before some shrine on the right side of a room was a monk but she made no move to attack me. I left her, worst comes to worst she'd stab me in the back and I'd drain her for all the trouble. The controls seemed to be linked to some form of auto pilot, as I could see a set of coordinates in front of the controls. Not sure how to work the damn thing, but I'd work it out. As I put my hands on the controls, I heard the announcement bell ring again and up came a Gondola with Comstock in the flesh aboard. I didn't hesitate, my machine gun came up and I opened fire. Sadly, the glass was apparently bulletproof.

"The Lord forgives everything. But I'm just a prophet, so I don't have to. Amen." With that, the gondola, and the prophet, headed off.

"Amen." I heard behind me, and I whirled around just in time to see the nun set aflame a puddle of gasoline, while standing inside it. It immediately caught, the fire spreading back into the airship. Ah, now I remembered. This isn't a blimp, it's a zeppelin. An important distinction, as blimps are filled with helium while zeppelins are filled with very, VERY flammable hydrogen. Shit. I heard an explosion as the fire spread, which make me quickly decide it was time to abandon ship. As I entered the engine room, the way to I'd entered was blocked off by a wall of flames. Ahead though I could see sky through a set of bomb bay doors. Either die on impact or burn to death. I'd been on fire before, I choose the instant end. With that, I leapt out the open bay.

But, it seemed luck was on my side, was right below me was a skyline. Landing on it nearly tore my arm off, but I was going to live so no complaints. Way too close. Beside me, I could hear the zeppelin falling from the sky and exploding at the same damn time. There is a reason people stopped using those damn things. As I zipped down at max speed I realized something. This was the line I saw earlier, the line to Monument Island. I leapt down, whooping with joy. Weird for me, sure, but Comstock had literally just blown up an airship and all he did was help me out. As I stood before the doors of Monument Island, I laughed loud and proudly. Nothing had stopped me. Columbia had thrown ravens, fire and countless men at me and I'd still made it to Monument Island. Sure, getting out was going to be a pain in the ass, but I'd made it despite everything. Now, it was time the Knight met the Princess. I opened the doors.

 **AN: And that's another chapter down. Welcome back all... 3 of you if I just count the followers but I'll ballpark it more at 5 or 6, counting anyone who didn't favorite. Eh, whatever. New fic, niche part of the site. Low numbers are to be expected early on. Anyway, hello! Yes, I did just update a fic within a couple days and hopefully, I'll keep doing it! Hopefully.**

 **Anyway, this chapter was interesting to write. Sorry if the gunfights seem a bit sparse as far as description. To be frank, I had no interest in describing each fight in explicit detail. That'd not only be tedious for me but I think for you guys. All it'd be is "He came out of cover and fire 3 shots, hitting a cop in the shoulder with one. The cops returned fire, one barely skimming Dustin." And etc, etc, on and on for words upon words of nothing interesting happening. Bioshock has some great gun play, but such things don't translate well to a text based medium, I think. So, I took this approach. Perfect? Not at all, at least not by my self deprecating viewpoint. But, it is what it is.**

 **And now, on to review replies. Only got one but I can reply to it as it had some good stuff!**

 **edboy4926: Thanks for the review! As to the Vigors, none of them can work on Dustin sadly. See, Vigors work like Plasmids which (Spoiler I guess) work by altering the body at the genetic level via stem cells. Not much more than that, kinda sounds like bunk anyway but whatever it's something to work on. One problem for Dustin, he's dead. No heartbeat, no new cell growth unless powered by the blood. Only reason he needs to breath is to speak, otherwise he doesn't need to at all. In the game he comes from, Vampire the Masquerade: Bloodlines (Great game, go buy it ASAP when it goes on sale), he literally stands in a room of Carbon Monoxide without feeling anything. The Vigor can't make genetic changes if the body is dead. But, he has his Disciplines, his powers as a Kindred. One of which is Animalism, so the ravens may play a role in the chapters to come. As to Elizabeth getting the Embrace (Being made a vampire in VtM speak)... If it happens it won't be for some time. I've been thinking it over on and on and I keep leaning towards a yes on her becoming Kindred. But it will not be fore some time, certainly not while they're on Columbia in the events of Bioshock Infinite. Thanks again for the review.**

 **So... what else... well I suppose I can give some brief future sight. One of the main pushes of this fic the Elizabeth and Dustin dynamic, which is partly why I'm rushing through this first bit as much as I can, I'm eager to get to the meat of this story. So expect things to slow down as I let the characters bounce off each other, maybe more focus into gun fights. Should be fun! See you all soon, hopefully this weekend if my predictions hold right. Bye!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Through the entryway was a rather large garden.

Oddly empty. Had all the guards here been expended trying to stop me? Rather foolish move. My question was answered as I walked around the fountain at the center of the garden. Chained up gates and caution signs formed a wall between me and the statue proper. If not for the skyhook hanging above it.

Morons.

One quick skyhook assisted leap later and I was through. Still no guards though… I walked up the steps, submachine gun at the ready. Near the top of the stairs was a statue of an angel holding a scroll, carved onto it was that familiar phrase, "The Seed of the Prophet shall sit the Throne and drown in flame the Mountains of Man." They're really hung up on this end of the world shit, typical.

Up some stairs behind the statue were a pair of doors. I opened them to reveal the first room, dominated by a large stone replica of the angel statue above.

Well, not really that large. It was big, maybe 10 feet tall, but nothing compared to the real thing. Past that was the real reason there were no guards. On the ground was a painted red line. Past it was the next door and various signs. One elaborated on the line "12 hour quarantine." Others read "Specimen is dangerous."

Specimen? Do they mean Elizabeth? Why?

Ignoring the quarantine, I pushed through the next door. Through it was a hallway leading to another chamber. What caught my attention, though, was the large blackboard ahead of me. It was covered in data, most of it meaningless to me. But, it was tracking the growth of someone, a girl. Or more accurately, tracking something growing WITH the girl. Who the girl was, was obvious, but what was being tracked? Why was she locked up? And furthermore, what about her had drawn the attention of Caine himself? I walked around the blackboard only to be faced with another quarantine line, this one labeled for 72 hours.

Beyond was some sort of strange machine with lightning come out of it. Or going into it, hard to tell. It looked like something a mad scientist had built. It even had a label "Siphon Passive" with 3 switches, each one sitting before an object. The objects were in darkness so I stepped up to the first switch and pulled the level. The first object lit up, revealing a teddy bear labeled "Age 4: Companion." The machine began to zap the toy which for a moment looked like it would combust. But then the electricity ceased, revealing that the machine had changed its color, making a brown bear a red bear. Weird…

I stepped to the next lever to my right. When I pulled it, the object this one was apparently supposed to change labeled "Age 11: Poetry Book". Again, the machine began to fire lightning into it and the formerly dark red of the book turned a subdued blue. So this thing was transformative? Weird, but ok. Probably siphoned power from the inevitable electrical discharges that struck the statue. Not a bad idea, really. Bit wasteful though. With that, I stepped to lever number 3 and pulled it. This lever's subject was a bit of white cloth with a red stain, labeled "Age 13: Menarche"

Wait… age 13, red stain…

Fucking humans! They were collecting her menstrual blood?! What the fuck?! Here, the lightning had a much lesser effect, instead cleaning the cloth. Weirded out by how far these researchers were going for seemingly nothing, using this poor girl's stuff as test subjects, I moved on to the next room.

The room beyond was a hallway, leading off to various side rooms with a door at the far end. Deciding to explore a bit, I picked the room on the right next to the exit and went inside. It was a makeshift theater, with a film projector and everything. So, I decided to see what this movie was.

Turns out, this was the Elizabeth show, I think. I doubt it could be anyone else. First image was "11/5/11 Lockpick Attempt No. 132" then changed to actual show the attempt in question. Not much I could figure out, 1912 film technology looks worse than the most pixelated videos of the modern day by a long shot. Good for big stuff but terrible for, say, details of what the girl looks like. But, I did glean something from the first scene. There was a door in her room. Could it be…? I reached into my coat and pulled out the key given to me when this all began. I was large, with the image of a bird set in the handle. Turn the key around, and the image is a cage, both similar to the cameos of the era.

Was this what the key was for? I tabled that line of thinking as the film again changed. "4/15/12, Specimen Investigating Codes." And the film proceeded to show us this as well, showing Elizabeth laboring over a large grid drawn on a blackboard. So, she was the subject. And, side thought, 1912 film still creeped the hell out of me. The lack of definition and odd frame rate just weirded me out I guess. Probably my modern sensibilities talking. The film change scenes, showing the page "5/20/12 Specimen Painting", then showed her working on a rather nice, as far as I could tell given the fidelity of the film, painting of the Eifel Tower. Well done too, given that she probably had never seen the damn thing.

The film changed again, saying "7/9/11 Specimen Singing". And lo and behold, she was singing. Not that I could really comment on it, no audio after all. Next was her other filmed activity "6/14/11, Specimen Dancing." This I could see more of. It wasn't much, really, just some stepping side to side and twirling, probably self-taught I think. And with that, the film ended.

So, recap. She sings, she dances, she reads, she paints, she breaks locks and she breaks codes. She's like the love child between a Disney princess and a super spy. Whatever, not my problem. What was my problem was the dark room across from the film room. I crossed the hallway and entered, looking over the 3 pictures. Nothing new from them except… wait is that her changing? What the hell is going on here? This was like… shit, this was like when I was being experimented on by the Mandarin back in Chinatown. Only I lost my patience in about 30 minutes and drank the bastard dry in retaliation. This girl must have the patience of a saint. Or, more likely and more disturbingly, she doesn't know what she's missing. Time to fix that.

I turned and left the dark room, throwing open the exit doors. Beyond was a massive machine, with lightning all over the place, none near the walkway thank God.

Ahead of me, before a pair of stairways, was a blackboard. It showed… something increasing faster and faster with a massive yellow chalk warning, saying "Facility Unsafe!" with multiple underlines beneath it. Not my problem that the humans didn't stay here. I moved past the chalkboard and to the lower level. All around me were speakers, all playing the same music.

But… it was oddly quiet. I could barely hear the music but with this many speakers, some as wide as I am tall, I should be deafened by the noise. But… nothing. All very quiet. I moved past the speakers to a small chamber in the back of the room. There was another quarantine line, this one marked "168 hours" and apparently only people approved by the Prophet could go any further. Beyond the line was an elevator, no doubt to where Elizabeth was kept.

Time to go then, to meet the Princess in the Tower. Fitting, actually. Back in the medieval period, Ventrue were often former knights and lords, nobles. And now, here I was, a Ventrue come to free a princess like the fairy tales of old. Let's see how reality plays this out. I stepped into the elevator and hit the button.

[Line break]

The doors opened to a metal room, with a set of steel blast covers covering, I assume, a viewing port. There was an offline light saying "Specimen Present." Pulling a lever in front of the doors revealed a small side room, which Elizabeth had apparently turned into a small work room, as on the desk in front of me, behind the two way mirror, was a comically large lock with lockpicks stuck in it, as if she'd left the lock for later.

Behind her was the same chalkboard I'd seen her working on to learn code breaking. Apparently, she was only a couple letters from being done. The girl in question was missing, but this might be a chance to get in. So, I pulled out my Desert Eagle and let loose a round. The round hit the glass, barely made a dent then ricocheted directly into my chest, coming out my back. "Shit!" I cried, stumbling back. A .50 Action Express round to the chest was not a fun experience. As I sent blood to the new injury, I holstered the pistol and moved on. The glass wasn't a way in so I'd need to figure something else out.

The hallway I entered had something called a "Specimen Tracker". Flipping the switch, the light next to Dressing Room lit up. I hoped my first sight of the girl wouldn't be her changing clothes, that'd be awkward. I opened the door to my left which led to a wooden walkway. The walkway was perched on the superstructure of the statue. We were high up in the statue now, I think the curvature of the metal outer wall was the shoulder region of the angel. I moved down the walkway to the next room, where another pressurized door met me. The next room had a similar blast door system and the same light. But this time, the light was on. She was here. At long last, I'd get to meet the girl I was saving. I pulled the lever.

And…

Aw shit…

She was beautiful. Thin, quite thin. I noticed that first, with her facing away from me. She wore a blue skirt, reached past her knees and a white blouse with… an ascot is it called? Some form of small neck tie, also blue. She had long brown hair, maybe reached her lower back. Seems long but she wasn't a tall girl by any means. Age… maybe 19 or 20 or so. Skin was clear and I think blue eyes. I didn't get a good look at the details but there she was. The princess in the tower. And she was gorgeous. Brilliant. If this turns out to be Caine's way of saying "You need to get laid" or, God forbid, matchmaking, I might just have to hit him. Or not, being a vampiric god and all.

Anyway, she was fawning over a picture of the Eifel Tower, only setting it down when she gave herself a paper cut. After looking at the cut, she picked up the picture and held it up, presumably to look at it in the mirror. Then, she was off to the next room. As was I. The specimen tracker said she'd moved to the dining room so I was off through the superstructure to find her. Maybe I'd find that door and try out the key.

The next room I was in was the same, lever, blast doors, whole nine yards. I pulled the lever to reveal the next room, which Elizabeth was currently occupying. Seems like this was her art room, as an easel held that painting of the Eifel Tower I'd noticed in the film. She turned to face it and, I think was going to tear it up? It looked like she was going to punch her hands into the canvas and pull it apart, as one pulls away curtains. Then she began to pull and…

Holy shit… She wasn't pulling at the painting, she was pulling at reality itself! She threw her hands wide as the rift opened up and I could see, wait Paris?! That was the Eifel Tower! And a theater with the main heading being La Revanche Du Jedi!

How in the goddamn hell did she open a portal to the fucking 1980's?!

Then, yet more fuckery as down the street I heard sirens and saw an oncoming fire truck. Shit, shit, shit, not good! Luckily for us both, Elizabeth saw the danger and pulled the rift closed. But what struck me was the rush of wind that hit her. That was a physical thing, as in she could step through it into 1983 Paris.

This… this was more than I could've ever anticipated. This isn't a normal mission, this girl can poke holes in reality for God's sake. As she ran off, holding her head like she'd messed up something minor, the blast doors closed. Only then did I noticed, right before the doors closed, that the glass had cracked.

So, recap again. The Disney Princess can make holds in spacetime to other points in spacetime on a whim with no effort.

Ok, yeah. Ok. This violates all known scientific laws, but then again so do I. I moved on to the next room. I could question her about this later. After another walk through the superstructure, giving me time to collect myself again. At the top of the path was, rather than another room, a stairway to a higher level. At the top was yet another viewing room.

I pulled the lever to reveal a library. It was two stories high, with a raised portion near a window out onto the city. Elizabeth was there, staring out into the city, wistfully as she quietly hummed a song to herself.

I suppose in the end, all she is, is just a girl who wants to be free of her prison. Time to make that happen, I think. I turned right and went through the door. Down the hallway was a sealed door, worked by a wheel you turn to open. I turned the wheel and opened the door only to be met by a rush of wind. Outside then, got it. I stepped out onto the outer skin of the statue and nearly had a heart attack as I was on the damn thing's shoulder!

After taking a brief moment to collect myself, I traveled along the walkway build into the statue, which lead into the head of the thing, up some disturbingly thing stair. But, I made it, entering the head. Inside, the walkway took me over a golden disk of some sort. Well, probably not gold but it looked like it, most likely part of the library roof. About halfway across the disk, I heard it creak. As I turned towards the noise, I had just enough time to see the chain break before the disk started to move, sending me sliding down it into the library below. I barely caught myself on the railing of the platform Elizabeth was on and started to pull myself up. And, as I pulled myself up, there she was, no doubt wondering who the hell I was.

"Uh… hi." I said. And then she screamed, loud. Loud enough to spook me and send me tumbling to the floor. As I pushed myself up, she decided to start throwing books at me.

Never had that happen before, and I've been struck with strange shit over the years. And every time, I thanked Fortitude. This was no different. As I got to my feet, she ran down the steps, chucking yet more books at me. I held up my hand. "Will you stop, OW! Stop chucking books at me!" She ran up, another large book in hand, no doubt to cave my head in as I raised my hand, again trying to calm her down, "I'm not here to hurt you!"

She stopped at that, right in front of me with book held up. By then I was at my feet as she finally spoke to me, "Who are you?!"

"Dustin Hastings, I'm here to rescue you."

I went to place a hand on her shoulder. Bad move, as she stepped back and held the book up high, yelling "Get away from me!" I caught her hand as she went to hit me, stopping the blow, not that she didn't try again of course but the second time wasn't the charm. At this, I think she started to calm down, lowering the book and panting. Then, she reached out towards me with her right hand, giving me a good look at both her face, for the first time, and the strange metal cap on her pinkie finger, a pinkie finger that was apparently missing the last bit of it. Plus, my earlier conclusion was correct, she was beautiful. Big blue eyes, high cheek bones and… pouty lips? I don't know, I'm a Ventrue, not a Toreador. I don't wax poetical about pretty people.

"Are you real?" She asked.

"Real enough." I answered. At that, the moment was shattered by the release of steam and the playing of some kind of whistle from a statue in the library.

Apparently, Elizabeth knew what that meant, saying "He's coming… y-you've gotta go." She started pushing me back.

"Leave, why? What's going on?" I asked.

"You don't want to be here when he gets here- JUST A MINUTE I'M GETTING DRESSED!" She yelled, apparently at this mysterious "he".

"Who is this he? What's happening?" I asked, fingers itching to grab one of my guns.

"It's my guardian, he's coming here to- STOP IT! YOU'RE TOO IMPATIENT, THAT'S ENOUGH!" She yelled, apparently stalling for this guardian.

I was at the end of my rope here and pushed past her to a large heavy door beyond, the same door I'd seen her picking in the film. And hopefully the door I had the key too.

"That's not a way out, I've tried!" She cried behind me.

I pulled the key out of my coat pocket and slid it in the hole, hoping to God that I was right. "You never had the key." Sure enough, this was the key we needed and the door came open. Elizabeth stormed up behind me then stopped dead when the door opened.

"How did you… never mind, we have to go!" She shoved me aside and pulled the door open, struggling to get the thick steel door open enough to slip through. Fortunately for her, she was thing and quickly slipped out of the room. Above us, I heard a loud, angry screech, like a bird just saw its child leave the nest. Past the door, alarms began to ring. I pulled the door open enough to slip through then.

At the bottom of the steps was Elizabeth, waving me on "Come on, this way!" I ran down the steps at full speed, not eager to make the thing making those noises. As I went down the steps, shit got worse as the statue began to shake back and forth. "It's his job to keep me locked up in here!" She yelled, referring to the outside thing as we both ran down the steps.

"We'll see about that!" I replied as we reached the observation rooms, running along the wooden walkways inside the statue.

"Who are you? Why did you come here?" She asked as she ran. Odd time for an interrogation so I kept it short.

"A friend, I'm here to get you out!" I replied. Don't think she heard me though, as the statue began to shake and dust started to rain down on us from above.

"This way, come on!" She yelled, still leading the way through the observation rooms. As we left the second room, a stumble sent me to the ground, where I had an excellent view of this guardian making giant claw marks in the statue! Almost as long as a large car or truck for God's sake! I thought the guardian would be like the Sheriff that Lacroix threw at me. But this was bigger, WAY bigger. I have no desire to fight that thing head on, no way. I got to my feet and kept running along, barely avoiding a girder as it came down on the walkway.

"Call the elevator!" I yelled ahead.

"What?!" she yelled back.

She didn't know what an elevator was, brilliant. "Just push the button, damn it!"

As I reached the elevator landing, I saw that apparently the work room was part of her bedroom, as another blast door had opened. Elizabeth paused to look into it. "What is all this? They were watching me? All this time… why?" She turned to look at me, "Why did they put me in here? What am I? WHAT AM I?!" She yelled. Can't blame her, this must be a hell of a thing to find out about your life.

I sighed, this really wasn't the time so I told her so, "Look, right now we don't have time to explain but I promise to tell you once we're safe, ok?"

She nodded hesitantly, then all hell broke loose as a massive claw broke through the elevator doors, reaching for me. It quickly retracted, replaced with a massive glowing yellow eye. I wasted no time, drawing my magnum and opening fire. Elizabeth sought cover behind me as I opened up, screaming at the thunderous noise of the Desert Eagle. Once again though, the bullets ricocheted around with a couple slamming into my chest, again. Just as the gun went click, the elevator dinged as the car hit the top of the robot's head, pushing it down and revealing a stairway beyond. She and I didn't even speak, both leaping out onto the stairway. "We have to keep moving! He's tearing the building apart!" She yelled as we beat feet up the steps.

"No shit!" I replied.

"Who are you?!" She asked.

Again with this? For god's sake. "I'll explain later, Elizabeth!"

This got her attention, as she replied, "How do you know my name?!"

"I said later!" With that, we kept running.

"There's a door up here!" She yelled, trying to turn the wheel to open said door.

I ran up and grabbed the wheel. "Let me try!" I turned the wheel and pushed open the door with ease, thank you Kindred strength, revealing yet another exterior walkway.

Elizabeth slipped out first, yelling "Which way?"

I quickly followed her out the door, replying, "Away from here!"

With that, we took the only open path, up to the statue exterior. As we ran up it, I saw it for the first time. The full monster and it was HUGE. Like an immense black bat just flew by, the size of a small building. We kept running, desperate for some kind of escape. At the top was… nothing. A dead end with Elizabeth looking for a way out.

Then, as I reached her, the whole damn world went topsy turvy on us, as the platform turned upside down, tossing Elizabeth and me into open air. She screamed in terror as we reached out to each other, me grabbing her arm as hard as I can without breaking bones. Then, below us, salvation. A skyline. I held out my skyhook, pulled the magnetic trigger and yelled to Elizabeth, "Brace yourself!" Then, impact. We hit hard, Elizabeth's weight on my arm pulling my right shoulder out of its socket. I cried out in pain but it wasn't debilitating by any means. I pulled the accelerator on the skyhook and held on to Elizabeth with everything I had. I could feel her grip on my arm slipping, mine would not.

We shot along at break neck speed, swooping up and down with the skyline. Above me, the monster barreled into a gondola, taking it out without even slowing down. Shit! We kept moving though, the gondola thankfully avoiding the skyline. In front of us, I could see the line swooping down towards the bridge and half the goddamn monument falling on the bridge! Just when things can't get any fucking worse…

We zipped past the falling statue, getting a good look at the now falling head. Below us, Songbird kept zipping around as we circled over the bridge and back into open air. Then, we turned and started zooming back towards the bridge, the now collapsing bridge thanks to the monument falling on it. And sure enough, the damn skyline was falling apart to. Below me, Elizabeth must've seen the same thing because she yelled as the wing of the angel took out the bridge. Then, we ran out of line, falling into the great blue yonder. My arm came up as Elizabeth began to slid off, I clenched my grip but it was too late, she slipped off and vanished.

Then, as I tumbled alone, awaiting my Final Death, a pool of water appeared beneath me. I watched as it grew closer and closer then, splashdown, I was in the water, coming to a stop. It hurt, but I was alive. Hopefully so was Elizabeth. As I became to float back up, having been pushed deep underwater by the impact, I looked up only to be met with the monster hitting the water and grabbing me, squeezing my dislocated arm particularly hard against me. It looked me over, ready to kill me then an explosion, from within the beast? It released me and floated up, before trying again to dive for me, again exploding in a cloud of oil. As it grabbed me again, I got a real close look at its eye piece as it cracked. Then it hit me, water pressure! It couldn't handle the water pressure! But I could, hah! When the glass eye casing finally gave way, the creature grabbed at it as it floated back to the surface. I grinned at the sight.

As the creature withdrew, I swam for the surface, breaking up and looking around. No sign of Elizabeth. As I paddled for the beach, very hard with one arm, I kept looking. I didn't bother keeping my head above water that much, only popping up to look at intervals during the short swim. Thank you nonfunctioning vampire lungs. Breathing is for humans, not Kindred. I eventually paddled my way to the sandy shore. Not sure why this place had a beach, but ok. As I stumbled up onto the shore I finally had hope, as Elizabeth was also stumbling from the water. She made it, thank God. With that in mind, I finally collapsed, eyes closing before I even hit the sand.

[Line break]

I doubt I was out long, as I opened my eyes to see Elizabeth attempting CPR on me. Shit, there goes the Masquerade then. She was trying to restart a heart that no longer functioned and never would again. I sighed and she froze, her hands still on my chest as she looked at me. I grabbed her arm. "I'm alright, I'm alright."

She paused, then smiled down at me. "Back in the land of the living. You alright?"

I groaned as I sat up, running a mental checkup. Everything ached, no doubt from the fall, the bullet holes were still there and my shoulder was still dislocated. No need for her to know about the bullets. "I feel like a truck ran me over and my shoulder's still dislocated. Otherwise, I'm ok. You?"

Elizabeth held up an arm, where a rather distinctive bruise could be seen, like a hand had grasped it hard. Ah, right… I grimaced. "Sorry about that. Does it hurt?"

She smiled, "It aches but I'll be ok. Are you sure you're alright?"

I held back the impulse to roll my eyes, "I'm sure. Although… there is one thing you can do for me actually." I sat up.

"What? What do you need?" She asked, eager to help.

"Come over to my right side and lift up my arm."

"Are you sure that's safe? I think it's been dislocated."

"Yeah, and I need it relocated so help me out here."

She sighed then moved into position at my right side, lifting my arm up to be horizontal with the sand beneath us. I reached around my chest and grabbed the arm with my left hand. There really is no experience like feeling a dislocated shoulder rub against the rim of its socket. Once the arm was in place, I turned to Elizabeth.

"Ok, on three, I need you to push as hard as you can until my shoulder pops back in. It shouldn't take much just be ready."

She swallowed and nodded.

"One… two… three!" With that she pushed and my shoulder popped back into place with a sickening pop. Well sickening to Elizabeth who swallowed again as I rolled the shoulder around.

"Should you really be doing that?"

"No time for a doctor's visit, Miss. I just want the arm back to normal." I replied. That, and the blood will quickly heal the injury anyway.

Off in the distance, I heard a violin start to play and she turned to look towards the noise, her eyes lighting up. "Do you hear that? It's music!" She smiled wide before looking at me imploringly.

I waved her off, "Go on, I just need to rest here a bit. I'll catch up later."

She got to her feet. "Ok, I won't be long, Mr. Hastings, I promise." And with that, she ran off.

Ah, to be so young, so eager to please. And so gullible, thank God. From my sitting position, I looked around the beach we'd landed on. The beach was thin, only around 50 feet of sand from the wooden buildings behind me and the water. People sat along the beach on various towels and under umbrellas.

But, none gave me a second look. Don't know why, but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I laid back down, deciding to let my wounds heal before I moved again. Some guy laying out on the beach "relaxing" won't get a second look, even if he has rapidly closing bullet wounds.

At least, I hoped.

If people began to shout, I could always use Presence to calm them down if nothing else. After laying there for… maybe around five minutes until the aching stopped, I got to my feet, brushed myself off and got moving.

To my left was a massive wooden building with various decks on it. On the side of the building was a massive sign, reading "Strength through Leisure", odd, but ok. I rolled my shoulders and started looking around. It was a stereotypical boardwalk scene. They build a beach in the sky just to have a boardwalk for the rich of Columbia.

Fucking Humans…

Rolling my eyes at yet another case of human stupidity, a common occurrence indeed, I started my walk along the beach in search of my wayward ward. First rule I'd learned about looking for someone, ask for help. I walked up to a woman on the beach, plastering on a false smile, "Excuse me Miss, have you seen a young girl? Brown hair. Blue skirt?"

She shook her head, "No, but I'm without an escort if you're looking to pass the time!" she smiled up at me earnestly, hoping I'd join her.

I smiled back sheepishly, "Sorry, not right now Miss." With that, I moved on to another group, a pair of men under an umbrella. "Excuse me, either of you seen a girl with brown hair in a blue skirt?"

The two looked at me, then one sneered and the other sniffed. No luck here. "Right, thank you then." I said as I walked off. Before leaving this part of the beach, passing through a passage to the next area, I stopped to ask one more person for help. "Hey, I'm looking for a young girl? Brown-"

I was cut off as the man laughed and replied, "Who isn't, brother?"

Good Lord… fucking humans, I swear. Ignoring the local pedophile, I walked into the passage only to immediately notice a poster announcing "President Comstock's Personal Airship at the First Lady's Aerodrome!" Ah, jackpot. A way out of this miserable, miserable place. Also, apparently Comstock is both prophet and president.

Not sure why that surprised me, given how cults tend to operate, but whatever.

I exited the passage only to be met by a breeze picking up and tossing an umbrella into the water. Probably common, this high up. At the other end of the beach was the main building entrance. Above it, in large lit up letters, read Battleship Bay, a motif that was carried over by the large battleship style decoration above the door, consisting of a ship's prow with comically oversized guns over the top of it.

How cartoonish, fitting for the era I suppose. In the middle of the beach was a wooden platform that stretched out into the water. From the end of it, I could hear violin music, the same music that had caught Elizabeth's attention. And sure enough, I could see a blue skirt fluttering around on the pier. Bingo.

After a brief walk, I was up on the end of the pier, watching the group dance. Before long, the group mostly broke off, leaving Elizabeth alone dancing in a ring of people. She was grinning, ecstatic to be out and about no doubt and was to be honest rather adorable to watch her dance. But, we had places to be.

"Miss?"

No response.

"Miss?" I said again, stepping forward into the circle.

Still no response.

"Elizabeth!"

At that, she whirled around, face still lit up with a grin, gesticulating as she spoke. "Hello! Oh, this is wonderful! Oh, come dance with me, Mr. Hastings!" She held out her hands for me to take.

Sadly for her, I am not a dancer, so I informed her of this. "Sorry Elizabeth, not much of a dancer. Besides, we need to get moving."

"Why? What could be better than this?" She replied, stepping back and twirling. Think fast; Hastings, convince the dreamer to come with you. Uh… My eyes trailed up, locking on the airship above, emblazoned with an image of a woman, Comstock's wife I think, with big lettering naming her 'The First Lady.' Perfect, one lie coming right up.

"How about Paris? Heard it's gorgeous this time of year."

That got her attention, her face lit up even more! "Paris?! I don't understand, how could we get there?"

I pointed up at the airship with a self-satisfied smirk. No need to hide my true emotions here, she'll just think I'm proud of my cleverness. Which isn't wrong. "That airship is headed there. If you want to stay here of course…" I trailed off, waiting for the reaction.

And she bought it, hook line and sinker, grabbing my arm and yelling. "No! Let's go! C'mon let's go! Let's go right now!" She turned me around then let go of my arm, running down the pier and twirling again. "I'm out," She breathed, "It's hard to believe but it's true isn't it?" She took a deep breath, smelling the air. "Oh, can you smell that? I've never smelled anything like that before. Have you?"

"A clean smelling beach? Can't say I've smelled one of those, no." I replied as we both jogged up towards the turnstiles at the far end of the beach. Near the turnstiles, she stopped and walked down towards the beach, looking out at the water.

"It really does look like the ocean doesn't it. Of course, it's really just an elaborate system of pumps and rain catchers." She said, bending down to pick up a rock from a bucket as I walked up next to her. "Watch this," she said before tossing the rock into the water, skipping it twice before it sank.

My eyebrows shot up. "Damn, that's impressive."

She turned to look at me, eyebrow raised. "It's just skipping a rock, Mr. Hastings."

"Yeah, but you've never done it before in the flesh right?" She shook her head, confirming my guess before I went on. "Well, not many people could apply something they read about in reality. At least with the physical stuff."

She shrugged. "It wasn't that hard. Did the same thing to swim out of the water earlier."

"Hm. Let's get moving. And for the record, the real ocean looks nothing like this. The Pacific outshines this by a long shot." I said as we started to walk again.

"Really? Where do you live?" She asked.

"I was born and spent most of my life in Los Angeles, in Southern California."

"Really?! What's it like?" She looked up at me, eager for knowledge.

I sugarcoated things, no need to tell her about the tensions and Jyhad of Kindred LA. "It's a strange place but nothing really like it. Really fast paced, lot going on you know."

She sighed wistfully. "Maybe one day I'll get to see it."

Hm…lie or don't lie… half-truth it is! "Well, I've been wanting to do a European Grand Tour for some time so how about after that, we go tour the cities of America. Give you a guided tour."

She grinned at me. "You'd do that?"

I shrugged one shoulder, smirking. "Sure, showing a pretty girl the real America? I don't see any problems with that."

She blushed but, to her credit, offered a coy smile. "Rather forward, aren't you Mr. Hastings."

"Is that a complaint, Miss Elizabeth?"

"Get physical and it will be, Mr. Hastings." She replied with a smirk. Quick witted, I like that. Plus the flirting will keep her from suspecting anything, hopefully.

Through the turnstiles at the end of the beach, we entered the building proper. Ahead of us was apparently a little stall where you could buy propaganda posters of Comstock. Elizabeth stepped forward towards the large one closest to us.

"Comstock. I've read about him. They say he can see the future." She commented, looking up at the poster.

I stepped up next to her, crossing my arms as I regarded the poster. "History is full of false prophets. Only thing that makes this one any different is that his flock is 15,000 feet up."

"I don't like his look." She said, holding her hands close as if unsettled by the gaze of a lunatic prophet.

"Do you dislike the look of the Prophet? Or his gaze?" Said the man running the stall to the left of us. Shit, how did I miss him?! Getting sloppy.

I smiled at the man and rested a hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "Apologies. My lady friend here probably thinks that the posters don't properly capture Comstock's holiness. Right, my dear?" I squeezed her shoulder, trying to get the point across.

Thankfully, she got the message and gave the man a charming smile. "Of course. Sorry if you thought otherwise sir." With that, we both walked away, heading further into the building. The exit of this room was a stairway up to the second level. Halfway up it, I stopped, using my hand, still on Elizabeth's shoulder, to stop her, turning her to face me before leaning in close.

"You ever read about cults?" I whispered, my voice low and harsh.

She raised an eyebrow, leaning back from me as she whispered back. "I've read about some of them, yes…"

"Well, we're in the middle of one with his own private police force. So let's keep the anti-Comstock comments to a minimum, got it?"

She scowled, whispering back furiously. "You insulted him too!"

"Yeah, and that was a fuck up that shall not be repeated." I sighed. "Look, let's just figure out a cover so we won't be found out, ok?"

"Got any ideas, Mr. O'Hara?" What? Oh, who cares? I can look it up later.

"Our names will work fine, no need for aliases. As to our relationship…" I rubbed my chin as she raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, apparently not impressed with my considerations.

"Is us just being friends insufficient, Mr. Hastings?"

"A man and a woman in 1912? Possibly, yes."

She rolled her eyes at this and started back up the steps. "It's the modern age, Mr. Hastings, not the Dark Ages."

Sighing and shaking my head, I followed her up the steps.

* * *

ine break]At the top, we emerged onto a boardwalk in the middle of a carnival, complete with food stands and game stalls. Ahead of me though, were Them. The man and woman I'm doing this job for. Both held red pillows with I think cameos on them? They were small bits of ornamentation with a black and white pattern on them.

"Bird?" Asked the man,

"Or the cage?" asked the woman.

"Or perhaps the bird."

"Nothing beats the cage."

I sighed, muttering. "Aw hell, not again with this…"

All three of them, for Elizabeth had run forward to look at the two pieces of jewelry, ignored my commentary. As I stepped up to the trio, Elizabeth turned around and held up the two jewelry boxes. "Look at these, they're amazing! Which one do you like more? This one?" She indicated one box, "Or this?" She indicated the other. "The bird is beautiful and the cage is somber, but there's something really special about it." She sighed, "I just can't decide. You pick."

Oh, what Freudian bullshit I could concoct from this. Could say that the bird is her desire to be free and the cage is her learned helplessness or something. But, in the end, I'd prefer she see a bird and remember freedom than the cage and remember slavery.

"The bird." I said.

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Yes, I'm sure." I think a bit of my exasperation with Them bled into my voice there but she didn't seem to notice, instead turning around to pin the cameo to the cloth choker about her neck, proclaiming, "I love it!"

"Surprising, I expected the cage." Said the woman.

"If you're going to be a sore loser, then I shan't do this again." As the man said this, Elizabeth turned around, modeling the new cameo for me. Fair is fair, it really did look good on her.

"Now that's just sophistry." The woman said as the two of them walked away.

Just then, as if awaiting the retreat of Them, I saw people running to the railing overlooking the beach below with cries of fear and shock. Elizabeth joined in, saying "My God, look."

Apparently, clouds had been hiding the Monument from the people on the beach and boardwalk. But now, they were parting to reveal the smoking wreck of the massive statue. I put a hand on her shoulder. "You ok?"

"I was my home."

"It was also your prison." I looked around at the crowd, which was quickly growing more and more panicked. "We need to get moving. C'mon." I released her shoulder and we started down the boardwalk.

Down the boardwalk, we took a right up some steps to move further in only to be met by a security checkpoint. Shit, we go through that we'll be spotted for sure and I'd rather not lay to waste more of these people.

…Ok, that's a lie I'd LOVE to kill more cultists but that doesn't mean I need to traumatize Elizabeth when there's another way out. To my right, I saw another door. Without preamble, I grabbed Elizabeth by the arm, who protested with a quick "Hey!", before I went towards the door. As we went, a man sitting on the ground nearby, smelling strongly of alcohol, raised his voice. "Hey! Hey, Copper! This one looks suspicious!"

Oh hell no, I was not going to be pegged by some drunk. I looked him straight in the eyes and said one word. " **Sleep.** " A drunkard stood no chance of resisting Dominate and he quickly passed out, nodding off where he sat.

"How did you do that?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'll explain later, right now we need to get moving." With that, I made for the door, finally noticing the padlock. "Give me a moment while I crack this."

Elizabeth stepped up next to me. "No need, let me."

Ah, I remember now. She can pick locks. Well, let's see what she can do. I got to my feet and handed her my lock pick as she got down next to it. While I settled in for a wait she- wait what? She'd sprung the lock! I couldn't even do that!

"How did you do that?!" I whispered, not wanting to draw attention.

She got to her feet and handed me the lock pick. "Trapped in a tower with nothing but books and spare time?" She replied with a raised eyebrow, a little bit smug in her success. "You would be surprised what I know how to do."

I hummed and walked past her. Beyond the door was a poster reading "Do not speak to the patrons unless spoken to first." Ah, the servant area, good. Easy place to hide in. I kept moving, Elizabeth following my lead as we headed down the hallway. Passing through the office at the end of the hallway, we went through a door only to be met with a black man scrubbing the floors with a brush.

"I must take any task with more than the slightest complexity, or they simply leave it in ruins for me to clean up later…" The man said. Very articulate, sounded like a quote from something. As Elizabeth and I entered the room proper and got closer to the worker, he looked up at us with a start before returning to his scrubbing with a gusto borne only of fear. "Oh! Ah… H'lo, suh… Doan you pay me no nevermind. Jus'sum foolish-ness. Y'know… haha… jus'monkeyshines." The fear in his voice was palpable as I walked by. Also, what the hell is a monkeyshine? Probably some messed up racial epithet from this time period. As we entered the next hallway, Elizabeth called to me. "Mr. Hastings!"

I stopped and turned towards her, "Hm?"

She held up a small pouch, "I found these silver eagles. There's a vending machine there." She pointed at said vending machine, the robot top half still moving around and speaking. "There might be something to bring you back to health."

Shit, a first said kit would be useless, same with anything Columbia may have developed. And all that stuff not working would raise eyebrows. Time to throw her off.

I gave her a charming, I think, smile. "Elizabeth, I'm fine."

She raised an eyebrow, "Are you sure?"

I nodded, still smiling as I walked past her and to the right, down into the next hallway. In it, surprisingly, was that mixed race couple from the stoning I'd "interrupted" by way of being the local Anti-Christ. They were holding each other and smiled at me.

The woman waved me over, whispering, "Hey, hey Mister. We'd like to help you."

"You made it out of that fair I see."

The man smiled at me, "Only barely. If the police hadn't been distracted by you, we'd never have made it. How did you escape?"

Hm, saying that I tore through those cops would probably be a bad idea… "I slipped the net and made my way here. Trying to find a way off this city."

The woman nodded, "I understand, we're planning to hide out in Finkton until all this blows over."

The man squeezed his wife, "We can be together there, without shame or judgement. We'd offer for you to come with but…"

"It'd be a bad idea for the False Shepard to come with you, I get it." I replied. The couple smiled as I turned to leave, Elizabeth following behind. It would be long before…

"What did you do for that couple?"

And there was the question. Eh, may as well tell the truth here. I replied. "They were going to be stoned to death by a crowd at the local raffle. The main event. Until I showed up, at least." We passed into a gambling hall of sorts, primitive slot machines everywhere and hung a left.

Elizabeth followed, asking, "What happened?"

I was about to answer as we reached the turnstiles only for a woman in coveralls to turn and look at Elizabeth. "Annabelle?"

"No, I'm Elizabeth."

The woman hummed a moment, but was unconcerned. If anything, she seemed to tense up at that name. "Beautiful name. Sorry about that." She turned and walked through the turnstiles. Something wasn't right here. As we walked into the ticket area, there were only men around the two of us, most turning to watch. Now, Elizabeth is beautiful, enough to turn heads, but something felt off.

No Kindred lives long if you ignore those little feelings in your long withered gut, I'm no exception.

As we walked up to the counter, I overheard the ticketmaster. He was on the phone, talking to… someone. "They're here, both of them." It was a faint whisper, barely audible to humans. But I'm not human. And this is a trap, shit.

"Sir, sir!" I said, trying to get his attention as my free hand fingered my mauser.

Behind me, Elizabeth was at a hot dog stand. "Careful sir, you'll get mustard on your nice suit!" In front of me, the man looked up at me.

"Sorry about the wait!" He lunged, barely missing my hand resting on the counter. My other hand left the coat, pistol in the hand only for him to slam the metal curtain closed in front of me. Behind me, Elizabeth cried out. I spun, only to see her kick a man in the balls and run. I didn't hesitate either, raising my pistol and opening fire.

Then, pandemonium, as all the men in the station began to open fire. I dove for cover behind a pillar with some seating around it. Elizabeth, not used to this, obviously, screamed and ran. Poor girl. But I had other issues. I kept firing only for one man to reach into a nearby violin case and yank out a shotgun.

Fuck. He got a shot off, the pellets slamming into my chest as I returned fire, my shots going wide from the impact as I cried out. The guard worked the lever to shoot again, only for me to dive out of his firing line, putting the pillar between us. As he charged around it to get my back in line, I emptied my magazine into him.

I hate shotguns. A lot.

As I got to my feet, the rest of the guards had found defensive positions behind the various carts and seating. Great, they're learning. I holstered my pistol and took up the shotgun before charging at them. Normally, this is insane. But I had two advantages. One, Fortitude, that glorious discipline. And two, Presence. They raised their guns only to see a beautiful man charging at them. For a moment, they hesitated. How could they shoot something so beautiful!

By the time they recovered from Presence's effects, I was over their cover and firing. I gunned down 4 of them only for the last guy to charge me with a bat. I raise my new shotgun to deal with him only to hear a click.

Four shots. That's it. Good Lord…

The guard swung at my head, only for me to step back away from the blow. As he recovered, I stepped back in and grabbed the club with one hand, the other going for his shoulder as I bit into his jugular.

He dropped soon after that, drained dry as I licked my lips. Wait, shit! What if she…

I looked around the room. The hell did Elizabeth go?! Wait, did she slip through the bars?

A set of bars had come down to seal the room. Too close for me to slip through. But a waif like Elizabeth? Damn it, she ran. Down the hallway, I could hear running. No doubt more guards to kill me. Excellent.

I grabbed a machine gun one of the men had used and moved up near the bars, hiding right next to them as the bars retracted. As they walked through the passage, about to fan out to find the False Shepard. I raised my gun and opened fire. Sadly, there was a pillar dividing this passage. The ones on my side of the pillar fell under my first volley. The others took cover and started to open fire. The sadly familiar feeling of bullets zipping through my chest only lasted a second as I moved into the hallway to flank them, reloading as I did so. One quick volley later, and down they went.

Room cleared, Kindred victorious. Go me.

Now, to find Elizabeth.

* * *

 **Oh look, I'm back. And of course, I update my least popular story, of course!**

 **Yeah, sorry for the hiatus, if you can call it that. My muse took a nose dive, life got hectic, I forgot. All the GREAAT stuff that makes fanfic readers curse out authors. Meh, here I am. Now, as to this story, I'm probably gonna keep working on it. My muse seems to have returned so I may as well keep it up. Sadly, updates to Outer Heaven are less likely. Frankly, I look back on that story and cringe at the writing. Less so here!**

 **Anyway, on to review answers!**

 **Doctor Dandy: Yeah, gonna work on those lumps of text. Looking back, they are awkward. And yes, Dustin is a hypocrite. No lie there.**

 **MEleeSmasher: No Vigors. They rely on DNA rewriting, which means an living body. Dustin lacks that. I can play around with his Animalism and perhaps other tricks, but no vigors.**

 **Malcinar: Yeah, more of a Vampire guy myself. Still, welcome!**


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